Wreckage
by isabella2004
Summary: In the aftermath of the shooting, Ben and Evelyn are forced to re-evaluate their lives and whether or not they have a future together. Sequel to Perceptions.
1. Chapter 1

**So, here it is. The continuing saga of Ben and Evelyn that I started in _Perceptions._**

 **Warning for slight sexual content.**

 **I'm sorry I haven't gone straight into the immediate aftermath of the last chapter of that story but, you know me: I love a flash forward prologue! Apologies that it's short. The wee man and I have had a fluey type bug the last few days so I haven't had too much impetus to write. More will be coming soon!**

 **If you are new to my fandom, please read _Perceptions_ first or none of this will make much sense!**

 **And please review if you can!**

 **Prologue**

 **May 1994**

Hurting yourself with sex.

It was a strange notion; that an act that was meant to be pleasurable could be used essentially as an exercise in self-hatred...self-flagellation. Oh it was pleasant enough each time, she couldn't say that it wasn't, and each encounter brought something different. A slightly new position, a refined technique, an alternative texture, and yet...

None of them were like him.

None of them _were_ him.

That was the problem.

Each time one of them touched her intimately, each time one of them slipped inside her, each time one of them groaned her name she would screw her eyes shut and will the tears not to come. What man wants to see his partner weeping?

But weep she did, even if only she knew it. She wept for what _might_ have been, for what _should_ have been.

She wept for him.

And she wept for herself, for throwing it all away, for throwing _him_ away, for once again taking a path that she knew deep down was ultimately only going to lead to never ending unhappiness.

She rolled onto her side after it was over, wriggling to the far edge of the bed lest this one be the type that wanted to touch afterwards. He wasn't. Minutes later, she heard the gentle snort of a snore. Her cue to leave.

It made it seem all the more sordid, dressing in the dark, slipping away into the night, and as she turned to reach for her jacket, tossed casually on the chair at the prologue of their passion, and his profile suddenly became visible in the light coming in from the street, she realised that she wasn't even sure what his name was.

Not that it mattered.

There was only one name that mattered. Only one man that mattered, at that. One man that she would probably never see again, even if she wanted to. If he only knew...he would be so ashamed.

The night air hit her with a jolt, cool for May, and as she hurried down the steps to the street, she saw that most iconic of things, a red telephone box, standing silently on the corner. She paused, checking her watch. It would only be nine pm in New York. He would still be awake. He might even still be in the office.

There were several bags of loose change in her purse, a trick someone had told her about to save her from being the dumb American scrabbling around trying to tell a ten pence piece from a five pence piece while the line behind grew longer and more impatient. She pulled one out and hurried over to the telephone box.

The number was easy, burned into her brain, even with the international dialling code and as it started to ring out, she felt her heart start to beat faster and her palms grow sweaty. Four times it rang. Another four and then she would hang up.

The line clicked.

"Ben Stone."

She opened her mouth to speak and found that she had no words. What was she supposed to say? What could she say? After everything that had happened between them, words would probably never be enough.

"Hello?"

She closed her eyes at the richness of his voice. How she missed it. How she missed him...

"Evelyn?"

With a start, she ripped the receiver from her ear and crashed it back into the cradle before pushing open the door of the telephone box and stepping back out into the crisp night air. Her breath fogged in front of her as she hurried towards the main road, her eyes scanning for any sign of a vacant taxi.

The sooner she was back in her flat and in the shower, scrubbing away the nights activities, the better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the delay. Still struggling a bit with this damn flu!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **November 1993**

 **Six months earlier**

"...and the Supreme Court held that Mr Baxter had _no_ reasonable expectation of privacy even though the gym locker room could only be accessed by card carrying members. Another win for the State and rightly so."

"Mmmm..."

Ben looked over his glasses, "Am I boring you?"

"To death. Couldn't you read me something from _Cosmo_ instead?" Evelyn asked.

"I wasn't sure I could do justice to any of those fashion articles."

"Just stick to the ones about sex then." She shifted slightly in the bed and winced. "Goddamn infections..."

He reached over and touched her forehead lightly. "You're still feverish. Do you want me to call the nurse?"

She shook her head, "They'll probably just say I need to wait for the whole load of antibiotics to kick in. I hate this. Honestly, as if a bullet wound wasn't enough to contend with. Why can't my body just heal rather than continuing to make me feel like shit?"

Ben didn't say anything, knowing he had no reply for her that would sound anything but patronising. It had taken two days for her to initially regain consciousness after surgery and every time they thought she was improving, another infection would set in, her temperature would sky rocket and it felt like being back at square one. It had been over a week since she had been admitted and some days she appeared as weak as she had on day one.

He lifted one of the magazines on the bedside table and flicked through it. "Here we go; _ten easy tips to excite your lover._ You think you need all ten?" She laughed. "I hope Pamela doesn't read this junk."

"That's my reading material you're disparaging," she said with mock annoyance. "Besides, I'm sure Peter reads _Playboy_."

"God help us."

Evelyn rolled slightly over onto her side and looked at him. "You look tired."

"I'm fine," he reassured her.

"Don't lie. You look as though you haven't had a proper night's sleep since I've been in here."

He smiled ruefully, thinking that she wasn't that far off the mark. Initially he had wanted to stay at the hospital twenty-four-seven, until the nurses had pointed out to him that he was going to be exhausted and of no use to Evelyn whatsoever if he didn't take care of himself. So he had at least agreed to go home at night, but when he tried, sleep didn't come easily. If he wasn't thinking about her, he was thinking about Edward and if he wasn't thinking about Edward, he was thinking about the baby and the look in her eyes when he had had to tell her...

"You should go home now and get some rest."

"I don't want to leave you when you're feeling like this."

"But my mom's going to be in later and, honestly, I'm probably just going to lie here and bitch and moan about how shitty I feel."

"I don't mind listening to that," he said, reaching over to stroke her hair.

"Well I do." She caught his hand and kissed it. "Just because I have to depress myself doesn't mean I have to depress you too."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep."

"Then go to work. You've taken so much time off to be here with me that I'm pretty sure your desk must resemble a paper recycling factory."

"I'm sure it's not _that_ bad," he replied. "And it's not as if I haven't been there since...since it happened. In fact, I was there on Thursday."

"This is Monday."

"Jack's taken on a lot of my caseload and Kevin..."

"Kevin? I thought you didn't rate him as far as you could throw him?"

"I don't, but..."

"And it's hardly fair to Jack, is it? He's got his own caseload to deal with."

"But..."

"Ben...I'll be fine, I promise. Please, either go home or go to the office but you don't have to spend every waking minute in here with me!"

The sharpness of her tone caught him slightly and, for the briefest of moments, he felt hurt by her dismissal. "Ok," he acquiesced, pushing the thought away as quickly as he could, just not quick enough for her to miss it.

"I'm sorry," she said, closing her eyes briefly. "I don't mean to sound like a bitch..."

"You don't."

"I do..." she sighed heavily. "I couldn't get through any of this without you, you know that. It's just..."

"You feel like shit and you want to be on your own to feel like shit," he finished for her.

She smiled, "You know me so well. Better than I think I know myself sometimes."

"It's fine." He got to his feet, bent over and kissed her gently. "I'll go to the office, get annoyed at Kevin for a while and come back and see you tonight, ok?"

"Ok," she replied. "While you're gone, I'll read up on those ten tips. I'm sure there must be one or two a girl can do prostrate on her back."

He pushed her hair back from her face and kissed her again. "Don't worry about that. You don't need any tips to get me excited."

"Ha!" she said, as he made his way to the door. "If I excite you right now then we have bigger issues than I thought."

XXXX

"Ben..." Jack sighed. "What can I say? I don't have anything more to tell you than I did last week."

"Nothing?"

Jack shook his head. "The canvass turned up a few people who said they saw two people running down the street after the shot was fired, but they couldn't describe them in any great detail."

"Ballistics?"

"The slug was from a Tenfoglio Titan but without a gun to match it to...?"

Ben sat down heavily in the chair opposite Jack's desk and ran his hand over his face. He knew he was clutching at straws badgering the other man, but nothing irked him more than an investigation that was going nowhere, especially one as sensitive as this. "What about Burns?"

"Cast iron alibi for the night of the shooting. Surveillance cameras put him in his office in Brooklyn until midnight. I'm currently working on a subpoena for his bank records to see if there are any payments that might suggest he elicited a hit but, with no real evidence other than gut instinct, I can't see us getting very far. He's answered routine questions, but he's not stupid. He won't want to get into a voluntary interrogation and we've no real probable cause to arrest him." He paused. "What are you even doing here anyway?"

"Evelyn told me to come in..." Ben paused. "I think she wanted rid of me."

"I doubt that."

"I don't know...I want to be there for her, but sometimes it feels like she's pushing me away."

"I think you need to cut her some slack," Jack said. "It only happened a week ago and she's had how many infections since?"

"Three."

"Well, there you go. She must be feeling like crap. Besides, maybe she's not used to having someone there to care."

Ben frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it," Jack said. "Any time she was hurt in the past, you really think Edward Burns was there to mop her brow and bring her breakfast in bed? Not to mention the fact that she hardly ever saw her parents and probably didn't tell them half of what was going on. Chances are she's used to having to look after herself."

"Maybe...but I don't want her to feel that way."

"And she won't, but you need to give her some time."

Ben nodded. "Anyway, I _do_ have things that I should be working on. Pre-trial motions in the Foster case for one. Shambala Green's making me earn my paycheck. Motion to suppress the confession, motion for change of venue..."

"You want me to take the case?"

Ben paused, "No, why?"

"Well, you know, it's a tough case and after everything that's happened..."

"You think I can't be objective about it?"

"That's not what I'm saying..."

"Because of what Evelyn's been through you're saying I can't still prosecute a woman who murders her abusive husband?"

"Ben..." Jack put up his hands. "Take it easy, that's not what I'm saying at all. It was only an offer. If you're happy to carry on, then do so."

Ben sighed, knowing that his temper was becoming too quick of late and that he was taking out his grievances on the wrong person. "I'm sorry. I know you're just trying to help. I've tried to suggest to Evelyn that she start seeing Olivet again but she hasn't shown that much interest. Maybe I'm the one needing therapy, not her."

"You've also been through a lot," Jack reminded him. "You've had to watch Evelyn suffer, not to mention...it was your baby too."

Ben swallowed hard and got to his feet, the mere mention of the baby enough to make him want to shut down. "I should get going. Thanks Jack."

"You're welcome," Jack replied as he left, closing the door quietly behind him.

XXXX

"So why does this keep happening?" Evelyn asked as Dr Jackson looked through her notes. "I mean, you took the bullet out. Why do I keep getting these damn infections?"

"It's your body's way of coping," he replied. "You had a foreign body implant itself inside you and we had to use surgical means to remove that body. We also had to perform a secondary procedure regarding your baby...so you've have a lot of tinkering about in that area. Sometimes, all it takes is one microscopic particle of bacteria and, bam, infection."

"So what are my chances of this being the last one?"

"Hard to say. What I _can_ tell you is that it's taking less time on each occasion to bring your fever down, which is a good sign."

"Any chance I'll be home for Thanksgiving?" she asked hopefully.

"Let's wait and see," he said diplomatically. "I don't want to promise anything for it to come back and bite me on the ass. Especially not to a lawyer." He put her chart back on the end of the bed. "I'll pop back and see you later this afternoon."

"Ok." She waited until he left and then rested her head back on the pillows and closed her eyes. She felt marginally better than she had done earlier, but still nowhere near as good as she wanted to feel. Though she knew she was receiving the best care possible, the four walls of her hospital room, the clinical smell, the aches and pains...it was all getting a bit old and none of it was doing her mood any good. She knew she had been harsh with Ben earlier, after all none of it was his fault, but who else was there apart from him and her mother? Not to mention, there were some things that she still just couldn't talk about with Susan. Perhaps even some things she couldn't talk about with anyone.

"Knock knock?" Her eyes flew open and, looking towards the door, she saw Elizabeth standing, her fist raised. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Uh...no," Evelyn said, pulling herself up. "I wasn't sleeping, just resting my eyes." She waited as the other woman moved over to the bed and placed a carrier bag down.

"I brought you some candy and some reading material," Elizabeth said. "I did wonder about the latest law journal but I figured Ben would have covered that, so I went for _Vogue_ instead." She pulled out the magazine and waved it slightly. "Christmas fashion tips, what we all need, right?"

"Right," Evelyn agreed as she put it with the others on the bedside cabinet. "Thank you, that's really kind of you."

"It's nothing..." Elizabeth paused and then sat down in the chair Ben had earlier vacated. "I wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. When Mike told me what had happened...I couldn't believe it."

"I'm...I'm ok."

"Really?"

Evelyn paused and then shook her head slowly. "No...not really."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"What, like in a session? You planning on billing me for your visit?"

Elizabeth smiled. "No, completely off the record and off the books. I know you haven't been back to see me, but I do care about what happens to you."

"Did Mike tell you they think Eddie was involved in the shooting?" Elizabeth nodded. "I almost don't want to believe that."

"Why not?"

"Because..." she fought to explain the feelings that had been floating around her brain ever since Mike and Lennie had questioned her about that night and revealed that Edward was a potential suspect. "Because I guess I don't want to think that he hated me that much."

"But you hate him, right?"

"Yes, but don't I have a right to? What right does he have? What did _I_ ever do to him except...except try to be a good wife and put up with all his shit..?" She shook her head. "You know, I thought leaving him was the best decision I could ever have made and now, sometimes, I wonder."

"But then you'd still be there, allowing him to hurt you."

"I've been gone six months and he's still hurting me," Evelyn said, tears springing into her eyes. "He's attacked me twice...he's making me go to trial and have to give evidence about what he did...he killed...killed my baby..." She watched Elizabeth's eyebrows shoot up slightly. "Mike didn't tell you I was pregnant."

"No, he didn't. Evelyn...I'm so sorry..."

"He killed my last baby too. Threw me down the stairs. Why should this one have been any different, even if it wasn't his?" She looked at Elizabeth again. "You know about Ben and I?"

"I suspected."

"And you don't approve? I know you argued with him that day I came to your office."

Elizabeth looked down at her hands. "I admit...I didn't handle that conversation particularly well. I was concerned for you, for your mental health, for your ability to cope with Edward on your own without needing to lean on another man..."

"I love Ben."

"I know."

"He's..." Evelyn paused. "He's everything I wish I had found fifteen years ago. Maybe if I'd met him rather than Eddie, my life would be very different now."

"Evelyn..." Elizabeth leaned forward and covered her hand, "I know this is going to sound retro feminist, but I only wanted you to realise that you don't _need_ a man. You are a strong, capable woman who took the decision to leave a terrible situation _on her own_ without any help from anyone. And you can build a life for yourself _on your own_ if that's what you choose."

Evelyn paused, torn between wanting to unburden herself completely and delve deep into all of the horrible, painful thoughts she had been experiencing since waking up and having Ben tell her, his eyes red, that the baby was dead, and wanting to keep it all to herself.

She chose the latter.

"Did you read that in _Vogue_ on the way over?"

XXXX

Ben hated to admit it, but Shambala _did_ have a point with her motion to suppress Nicola Foster's confession. The change of venue was a ludicrous suggestion, one he knew Judge Baum would dismiss out of hand without question, but as he read over Mike and Lennie's notes from the interview, and the law, he couldn't help but think that he was going to lose the argument.

Nicola Foster had killed her husband in his sleep, then immediately called 911 to report it. Officers had attended to find Sergeant James Foster dead and his wife in such a state of shock that she couldn't speak. They had taken her to the precinct where, during questioning, she had confessed to the crime. The problem was, although she had been read her rights, her mental state was clearly questionable and it irked him slightly that neither cop had thought of halting the interview to offer her medical help.

He had looked through relevant cases, checked legal journals, done all the things that, technically, Kevin should have been doing for him and had found that most of the authorities appeared to err on the side of the accused. If he was a betting person, the confession was going to be ruled inadmissible and, if it was, the People were going to be in some difficulty.

Just as he was wondering exactly how he was going to frame his argument to Judge Baum, the phone rang and he answered it quickly in case it was Evelyn. "Stone."

"I suppose I find you working hard on how to counter my motion tomorrow," Shambala said, a hint of a smile in her voice.

Ben sighed and rolled his eyes heavenwards. "Well, you know me."

"I know you alright. I know you've probably done all the preparation for this hearing in the time you've been sat at your desk today because you've been spending the rest of your time at Evelyn's bedside."

"You want to criticise me for that?"

"No...I just wondered if it might have made you more disposed towards the plea we discussed before."

"You wanted manslaughter two?"

"A year in Bedford, with treatment."

"And I told you that I wouldn't go any lower than manslaughter one, eight and a third to fifteen."

Shambala didn't say anything for a long moment. "Ben...she's not responsible for her actions."

"Oh, so you're going to change the plea to not guilty by reason of mental defect? I thought you were convinced you were going to win the hearing tomorrow. If you do, she goes home."

"And if I don't, she has to go through the indignity of a trial."

"It's not about her dignity," Ben said. "A man is dead."

"Why are you being so unpleasant about this? The woman needs help, not jail! Not to mention the fact that few people are going to be lamenting the demise of James Foster! I would have thought that you of all people..."

"Me of all people what?" he snapped. "Me of all people would be pleased someone like Foster is dead because of what he did to his wife? You think I want Edward Burns dead because of what he did to Evelyn?"

"Don't you?" Ben didn't reply. "How is she?"

"She's...uh...she's ok. She keeps getting infections but...she's ok."

"And you?"

First Jack, now Shambala...people wanting to know how _he_ was, showing concern for what _he_ had been through. What did that even matter? Evelyn was the one lying in hospital. Evelyn was the one suffering. Evelyn was the one who had lost so much. "I'm fine." Hearing himself say the words almost made him shake his head in disbelief. If he was trying to convince anyone, he was doing a pretty poor job of it.

"I was thinking of going to see her tomorrow," Shambala said.

"I...uh...I think she'd like that."

"Fine." She paused. "Look, I'm sorry..."

"Forget it. I'll see you tomorrow." He put the phone down before she could say anything further and sat staring at the papers in front of him, not really seeing anything, until a knock at his door startled him and Kevin suddenly appeared.

"Do you need any help?" he asked, somewhat nervously.

"With what?" Ben asked. "Preparation for tomorrow's hearing? I've already done it."

"Oh...I'm sorry. I was going to look out some cases for you but I got sidetracked with some medical records in the Dwyer assault and...and then Janice Rydell called about the Miller homicide and..."

Ben closed his eyes.

"...and then I had to go to the Brock arraignment and Judge Leon was very..."

"Mr Clifton?"

"Uh, yes?"

"You're fired."


	3. Chapter 3

**Enjoy!**

"When can we come and see her?"

Ben smiled at the concern in his daughter's voice and couldn't help but think, not for the first time recently, that he had been blessed with a child who appeared to care so much about others. In the immediate aftermath of Evelyn's shooting, he had hesitated in calling Hartford. Not because he hadn't wanted Peter and Pamela to know, and certainly not because he didn't think they would care, but because his fatherly instinct had wanted to protect them from society's evils. In their world, people they knew didn't get shot in the street. In the end, it had been Laura to whom he had delivered the news and, to her credit and his surprise, she had reacted with appropriate shock and concern. During the course of the brief conversation, they had agreed that it would probably be better simply not to tell either of the children that Evelyn had ever been pregnant and it brought a lump to his throat when he thought about how lucky he really was to know the joy of parenthood.

Which had brought him to another thought. Whether or not he was going to follow through on his plan to ask the children if they wanted to come and live with him. Though he had known she had been itching to ask, Laura hadn't mentioned it and he couldn't help but fear, given the loss of the baby, that it might be too much to ask of Evelyn.

"Well, it might be better to wait until she's out of the hospital," he said. "I know she'd love to see you, but she still isn't feeling her best yet."

"What about Thanksgiving?" Pamela asked.

Ben paused. The original idea had been for the kids to spend the actual day of Thanksgiving with their mother and then travel down to the city the following day, but as he wasn't sure if Evelyn was even going to be well enough to celebrate on any level, he was reluctant to commit to anything. "We'll need to wait and see."

"But it's over a week away. Surely she'll be better by then?"

"She's been pretty sick, Pam. Let's just see how she is, ok?"

"Ok." She paused. "Did Peter tell you about the scout?"

"What scout?"

"The scout that was at the game last weekend. The one from Stanford?"

Ben frowned, "No...why? Was he approached?"

"I probably shouldn't say anything," Pamela said generously. "It's Peter's thing."

Although bursting with curiosity and, perhaps not unreasonably, keen for any _good_ news in the face of all that had happened, Ben reigned in his natural propensity to enquire and simply agreed that he would call later in the week with an update on Evelyn's progress. He did, however, tell her to remind Peter that he could call him anytime...if he wanted to. As he put the phone down, he thought back to what Evelyn had said when they had been watching Peter play and about how good he was. Not that he had any right to live his own childhood fantasies through his children, and especially not given the strained relationship he knew he and Peter still had, but having a son play professional baseball...

"What are you doing here?"

Adam's voice snapped him out of his reverie and he looked up to see the older man standing just inside his office door.

"Oh, you know, working. Things don't get done themselves around here."

"That's partly what assistants are for, remember? Where is Mr Clifton anyway?"

"I fired him."

"You did what?"

"I fired him."

Adam shook his head. "Well that's just perfect."

"I didn't have any choice," Ben replied, getting to his feet. "He's completely useless."

"You cannot just go around summarily firing people! We have labour laws! Not to mention the fact that I don't have anyone to replace him with!"

"Fine, I can work without an assistant. I feel like I've been doing that for weeks now anyway."

"Ben..."

"I can't work with someone who has no knowledge of the penal law, no interest in learning, no common sense whatsoever..."

"So you'd rather kill yourself trying to cover your caseload on your own?"

"I can manage."

"Beautiful," Adam sighed. "So we're right back to where we started six months ago when we were sat in my office, waiting on the Banks verdict, and you told me you didn't need an assistant. Funny how nothing changes."

"Nothing changes?" Ben echoed. "Everything that's happened in the last six months and you can say that nothing changes?"

"I meant as far as you and your attitude to this office is concerned. Look at you, the Lone Ranger. Nobody can do it better than you. Nobody can be as impartial and objective as you."

Ben thrust his hands onto his hips, any positive feelings he had had after his phone call with Pamela quickly fading away. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I was talking to Jack," Adam said. "He tells me that you're intent on proceeding with this Foster case."

 _Damn McCoy. Just when I was starting to like him..._

"So?"

"So, you really think that it's wise? Prosecuting a woman for murdering her abusive husband when your own girlfriend is lying in hospital, having possibly just been shot by someone hired by hers?"

"Are you saying that because you don't believe Nicola Foster should be tried for her husband's murder or because you don't believe _I_ can try her?"

"I'm saying it's an emotive subject that you're too close to. Pass the case to Jack."

Anger engulfed him. "No."

Adam looked at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm not going to hand this case to Jack. I've got a hearing before Judge Baum tomorrow morning on Shambala Green's motions..."

"Jack can handle that."

"It's _my_ case!"

"The case belongs to this office," Adam said levelly, never raising his voice. "Not to you personally. Now I want you to pass it to Jack and then I want you to take all that vacation time you've had building up."

In all the years that he had worked at the DA's office, Ben had never gone against the orders of his superiors, whether it had been Albert Wentworth or Adam, but neither had he ever taken all the vacation time he was entitled to, preferring to do things himself rather than relying on delegating to junior members of staff. With Paul it had been easier. The younger man had been eminently competent, and he knew, that even in the short time Evelyn had been there, that she had been the same, but there was never a truer phrase than _if you want something done right you have to do it yourself._

"I don't need a vacation..."

"You need to spend time with Evelyn. She's going to be relying on you in the coming weeks. I talked to Judge Callaghan's clerk earlier and he wants Burns' trial completed before Christmas."

His own grievances suddenly flew out of his mind as the implication of Adam's works sank in. "But Christmas is only five weeks from now."

"I can read a calendar."

"And it's a trial that could take two, three weeks as it is!"

"What's your point?"

"My point is, there's no way that she's going to be ready, physically or mentally, to give evidence in the next few weeks! She was shot for God's sake! She lost a child!"

Adam paused. "So did you. That's also why you need to take the vacation time. When she's well enough, take her away somewhere."

Ben shook his head, "Adam..."

"This is not a request, my boy. It's an order. Get the Foster file in order, pass it to Jack and go home. This office will not come to a standstill because you take some time off." Adam turned back to the door. "And if you don't take the time off, I'll simply suspend you."

XXXX

"So not only do both Jack McCoy _and_ Shambala Green think that I shouldn't be prosecuting the Foster case now, apparently, Adam does too! Everybody seems to be questioning my objectivity, my adherence to the law..."

Evelyn watched as he paced angrily in front of her bed, hands on his hips, almost oblivious to the fact that she was even there, in a state of agitation the likes of which she had rarely seen him.

"Jack thinks I should pass the case to him, Shambala thinks I should be handing the Foster woman a medal rather than an indictment and Adam ordered me to take vacation time or he would suspend me!"

"He didn't really say that, did he?"

"He did!"

"So, what did you say?"

"I told him I wanted to do the motions hearing tomorrow and then decide. If Shambala's successful, there won't be much of a case to prosecute."

"And if she's not?"

"Well, then I suppose I have to do what Adam says or I'll have some ridiculous suspension on my record."

"Well that would certainly be a blight in your quest to become District Attorney," she remarked sardonically, reminded of the conversation she had had with Adam when she had resigned.

Ben stopped and turned to look at her, "What?"

"Nothing. Look, maybe he's right."

"You don't think we should prosecute her? She murdered her husband when he was sleeping! You said before that if it had been you and you had killed Edward that way that you would expect..."

"I know what I said, Ben," she replied, irritated by his dogma. "That was then."

"Oh, so suddenly you think she was justified? You want me to walk you out of here and stick you in a cab to Brooklyn so you can emulate her?"

"I want you to stop shouting at me as if I was a defendant standing trial!" she snapped. "If I feel in my heart that I would like to kill Eddie because of what he's done to me then I'm entitled to that feeling! It doesn't mean I'm going to go out and do it! And I don't doubt for a minute that you can prosecute Nicola Foster objectively and dispassionately but do you really want to? Don't you think it would be better, all things considered, just to give the damn case to Jack?"

"It's _my_ case!"

"Screw you then," she said, turning over onto her side away from him. "If it's that fucking important to you then you prosecute her! Take the suspension! Be a martyr to the DA's office if that's what you want! It sounds like you always have been anyway. And you wonder why Laura left you and why the kids feel as though they don't know you."

The moment the last sentence left her mouth, she knew she had overstepped the line. No matter how much he included her in his life with the kids, they were _his_ kids...it had been _his_ marriage and she knew she had no right to comment. But then again, she had been pregnant with _his_ baby, yet it felt as though he wasn't interested in sharing any of the grief with her.

She waited for an outburst, or to hear the sound of him leaving the room, but when neither came, she rolled back over to find him sat in the chair at her bedside, his head in his hands and she immediately felt an overwhelming sense of remorse.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I shouldn't have said that."

He lifted his head and looked at her miserably, "You were right though."

"No, I wasn't..."

"And I told myself that I was going to do things differently this time. That when this baby came I was going to be there...that work was not going to be the be all and end all of my life...that I was going to be there for you..." he paused and shook his head. "I guess part of me wonders what the point is now."

His words stung, though she wasn't sure if he had meant them to, and she ducked her head away from him. "I guess the point is that _I'm_ still here...even if the baby isn't."

He crossed the space between them within seconds and suddenly she was in his arms and he was kissing her, telling her he loved her, that he would be there for her and, most of all, that he was sorry if he'd made her feel that she wasn't important. She let him talk, let him comfort her, and it reassured part of her. But another part of her couldn't help but see a chink of light peeping through the first crack in the apparent solidness of their life together and when he sat back down, she resolved to change the subject.

"Liz Olivet came to see me today."

"Really? What did she want?"

"To see how I was doing. You sound surprised."

Ben shrugged, "I guess I just didn't realise she made house calls. Did you talk about anything specific?"

"A few things," Evelyn replied, looking down at where her hand lay clasped in his on the blankets. "We talked about you."

"Oh I'm sure she had quite the opinion on me," he said sarcastically.

"It wasn't like that."

"No?"

"No. She said that she felt bad about the last time you spoke at her office and that she only ever wanted me to realise that I could stand on my own two feet and move past what happened with Eddie."

"Evelyn, she practically accused me of taking advantage of you. And that's a little hard to take from a psychiatrist who slept with a police officer when he was, technically, still her patient."

"Mike Logan?" He nodded. "They're still together, or so I gleaned from what she said."

"Good for them."

"Don't be like that."

"Like what?"

She squeezed his hand, "It's not like you to hold a grudge. Especially against someone you've known for how long?"

"A long time." He sighed heavily. "I guess I should probably make the effort to go and see her. Try to clear the air."

"I think that would be a good idea."

He nodded. "Did your mom come to visit?"

"Yeah," she replied, not missing his attempt at changing the subject. "Sarah, Nick and the boys are arriving early next week for Thanksgiving. My aunt Patricia was meant to be putting them up but, apparently, her plumbing's been playing up, so they're going to be staying at the Hilton instead. My aunt's pretty upset, but if I know Sarah, she'll have paid someone to sabotage the plumbing."

"She doesn't get along with her mother?"

"Oh no, she does, but there's no way she could live with her for a week. I know she finds it incredible that I stayed with my mom all those months after leaving Eddie. Speaking of which..." she paused. "My mom wants me to go and stay with her once I'm discharged."

"You told her you were coming to stay with me, right?"

"Well..." she paused. "I guess after what I said to you earlier, about not needing you to spend every waking minute with me, I wasn't sure if you would still want me to."

"Of course I want you to. Besides," he said ruefully, "if I'm going to be taking all this time off then surely it's better to have someone to spend it with."

She smiled, "I like your thinking. So, if your showdown with Shambala tomorrow is going to be your last act before intermission, you'd better hit me with your best arguments."

XXXX

"Your Honour, my client was interrogated by the police for almost three hours without any access to legal representation..."

"Your client was given her Miranda rights, she knew she could ask for a lawyer at any time and she didn't."

"No," Shambala said, "and she didn't ask because she didn't have the mental awareness to do so."

Judge Baum frowned, "Please explain, Ms Green."

"Mrs Foster had just been dragged from her home to the precinct in the middle of the night..."

"After she had called 911 and been found next to the dead body of her husband," Ben interrupted.

"And was immediately read her rights by the first officers on the scene," Shambala said. "She was immediately considered a suspect and Detectives Briscoe and Logan took her to the station for immediate questioning. At no time was she offered any medical assistance and that, Your Honour, is the thrust of the defence's argument."

Ben sighed, "Miranda provides for the right of an accused person to seek assistance from a lawyer. It does not provide a right to medical assistance!"

"The woman was clearly in shock!" Shambala said. "The detectives must have realised that much of what she was saying to them made little to no sense and that it was clear she needed to be assessed by a licensed physician. They should have halted the interview until such time as that was done."

Judge Baum made a face, "Mr Stone?"

"Your Honour, some of what Mrs Foster may have said to the police officers might not have been entirely clear, but when she gave a detailed description of how she had killed her husband, she was very clear. She talked about her reasons for doing it. She talked about waiting until he was asleep..." he ticked the points off on his fingers. "She talked about going to the kitchen and getting a knife. She talked about stabbing him three times in the chest and she talked about calling 911. All very clear, concise and accurate statements."

"Which doesn't take away from the fact that she was in no mental state to make them!" Shambala said.

"Ms Green..." the judge waved her hand. "I feel for your client, I really do, and I'm sure that Mr Stone's office will consider offering a plea commensurate with some of the suffering that Mrs Foster went through, but I see no reason based on what you've said today to consider suppressing your client's confession."

"Your Honour..."

"I'm sorry, but the confession is in. Now," she looked at Ben expectantly. "Are we ready to go to trial?"

He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I'm sure we are, Your Honour, however my colleague Mr McCoy is going to be trying the case. I can have him contact your clerk later today with a timescale?"

"Very well. But you can tell him from me that I don't want this dragging out any longer than is necessary. I've already told you that I'm sympathetic to Mrs Foster's situation."

"McCoy's taking the case?" Shambala asked as they left the judge's chambers together. "I take it you decided you didn't have the stomach for it after all."

"No, I decided there were more important things that I could be doing right now than personally prosecuting your client," Ben said, trying hard not to rise to her bait.

"Good. Maybe I'll have more luck convincing _him_ to accept a plea to manslaughter two."

"Maybe you will."

"Ben..." she rounded on him. "Do you honestly, truly, sincerely believe that that woman deserves to spend the next twenty-five years of her life in jail?"

"Shambala..."

"Look, forget about being an officer of the court, forget about being a prosecutor, forget even about being holier than thou...I have always respected you, both as an attorney and as a human being..."

"Then respect this," he cut in, tired of her constant badgering. "I'm no longer in charge of the case. If you want to talk about a plea or make an impassioned speech for some sort of clemency, then talk to Jack McCoy. Failing that, no doubt I'll see you again in a few weeks."

"Weeks?" she echoed as he turned away. "Don't tell me you're taking a vacation, Stone. Do you even remember what the word means?"

"I'm sure I'm about to be reminded."

"Evelyn's a lucky girl."

He stopped and turned back to see a smile spread across Shambala's face. It was funny, he couldn't help thinking, what some people's definition of luck was.

"Is she?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Eight days later**

"Evelyn...! Jesus, you look like shit! I mean, I'm sure you look better than you did a week ago but you're so _pale_...you look as if you need a good few cocktails to pep you up! Don't they serve alcohol in this hospital?"

Evelyn smiled in spite of the diatribe. If it had come from anyone else she knew she would most likely have issued a barbed retort of her own, but Sarah was different. She was the one person she trusted to insult her and know it was meant with nothing but love. "And you look incredible for someone who's just stepped off a plane," she replied.

"Well, when you fly first class it's not really flying at all, is it?" Sarah said, hugging her and then perching on the edge of the bed. "Nick and I slept the whole way."

"And the boys?"

"Who knows, they were back in coach." She smiled and gripped Evelyn's hands in her own. "It's _so_ good to see you, even despite everything that's happened. I know I said you look like shit but are you feeling better at all?"

"Yes, actually. Much better than I did even a few days ago. The doctor says I can go home tomorrow."

"The day before Thanksgiving! Hallelujah! You'll have a lot to be thankful for this year."

Evelyn faltered slightly, though she knew her cousin didn't mean anything by it. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"You've left Edward..." Sarah rhymed off, oblivious, "you have a new job...a new man..." she winked conspiratorially. "Where is the dashing Mr Stone anyway? I was hoping to meet him."

"You will," Evelyn reassured her. "Your parents invited us both for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday."

"Thank God," Sarah said, her city twang becoming more pronounced with each moment that passed. "We can base all the conversation around you two then rather than me and why I haven't been home in almost four years."

"Well, we don't have to..."

"I swear to God, I've been stateside for less than three hours and I've already had it with my mother," she rolled her eyes. "She's still pissed that we're not staying with her and I tried to explain that we didn't want to impose, especially with workmen in fixing the plumbing, but she's adamant that it _is_ fixed and that we should give up our rooms at the Hilton and schlep all the way over to her now. Not on your life, I'm telling you! So when are you getting married?!"

Evelyn paused, thrown slightly by the abrupt change in conversational direction. "I'm still married to Eddie, Sarah and, last time I checked, bigamy was still a crime."

"But how long can it take to get divorced from a creep like him anyway? I mean, you must have good grounds, especially now. Mom told me that the police think he's behind the shooting?"

"It's...a possibility."

"Unbelievable. I mean you read about this kind of thing in the papers, and it would make a great storyline on _All My Children_ that I never see anymore, but to think it could happen to someone you know...someone in your family..." she shook her head. "The man must be crazy to think he'll get away with it."

"Well, the police don't know that he was definitely involved..."

"Who else would want you dead?" Sarah demanded, as if it were the most natural question in the world. "You never had any scuzzy clients at your firm...although I guess it's different at the public defenders' office..." she wrinkled her nose. "Weren't there any vacancies on Wall Street?"

"None that seemed interested in hiring me," Evelyn said grimly.

"Well once you get up on that stand and send Eddie to the electric chair, _everyone_ will be wanting a piece of you," Sarah said confidently. Evelyn laughed. "What's so funny?"

"We don't have the death penalty in New York, Sarah, and even if we did the electric chair went out with the ark." She squeezed her cousin's hands again. "It really is good to see you though. I reckon you're going to be just the tonic I'm needing."

"Well I'm glad you think so," Sarah said. "Let me know if you feel the same after dinner on Thursday. If Mom and I can get through the day without arguing, it'll be Miracle on East 84th Street!"

XXXX

"I don't recall seeing your name on my patient list for today."

Ben smiled ruefully at Elizabeth's gentle attempt at humour. "No, I guess you wouldn't. I was hoping you might have a spare ten minutes at the end of your day." He had mulled over what Evelyn had said for several days and had come to the realisation that she had been right. Being estranged from Liz, given how long they had known each other, had never sat well with him and though part of him couldn't help but feel as though she should be the one to make the first move, he had decided to be the bigger person.

She glanced at the woman sat on the couch watching their exchange. "I just have my last patient and then I'm free. I shouldn't be more than half an hour or so."

"That's fine. I can wait." He watched as she ushered the woman into her office and closed the door before picking up a copy of _Time_ magazine that lay scattered across the coffee table and flicking through it. The articles danced in front of his eyes, but he took nothing in. All the way over he had been debating what to say and how to say it. He knew that if he wasn't careful, any attempt at an apology could simply escalate into yet another argument and, lifted by the news that Evelyn was going to be discharged the following day, he didn't want any more bad feeling.

Twenty minutes later, the woman left Elizabeth's office and she ushered him inside. "Take a seat," she said.

"On the couch?" he replied, looking at it doubtfully. "I'm not here for therapy, Liz."

"Stand if you'd prefer but I'm guessing my couch is more comfortable, therapy or no therapy." He relented and sat down. "How's Evelyn?"

"She's fine. In fact, they've told her she can go home tomorrow."

"Well that's encouraging. I did plan to go and visit her again but the days have just gotten away from me." She paused. "So, what can I do for you?"

"I...uh...wanted to apologise," Ben said. "For what I said before, about you sleeping with a patient. It was uncalled for."

"It was beneath you."

"That too."

Elizabeth paused. "The mandated therapy had finished, Ben. All I needed to do was pass him on that and he was back on streets, not to mention the fact that I transferred his case the next day..."

"You don't have to..."

"No, but I want to," she leaned forward. "There's nothing I hate more than having my integrity called into question, especially by you. We've worked together too long for that. When you tossed that insult at me, you made me feel like some sort of...deviant. Like I was no better than someone like Diane Meade, remember her?"

Ben nodded. Who could forget the psychiatrist who had willingly slept with her patient, Dan Garrett, and ultimately been responsible for him killing his girlfriend, Jennifer Goram? Elizabeth had felt passionately about that case and he knew that she still did, given that Garrett had been sentenced to four to twelve years in jail as opposed to the four years in hospital the State had asked for. "I'm sorry. That was never my intention."

"Mike and I...I love him," she said. "Regardless of how we met."

"And I love Evelyn."

"I know..." she sighed. "I jumped to the wrong conclusion. I saw a woman who was my patient, who had been treated despicably by her husband, who was vulnerable..."

"And you thought that I was taking advantage of that," he interrupted, his tone harsh. "Even though you know me and must know that I would never take advantage of anyone, least of all someone like Evelyn. Do you honestly believe that I would have pursued anything with her if I'd thought for one moment that she didn't feel the same?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "No."

"Good."

"But I have to question her wisdom in jumping into another relationship so quickly and that is all that I was trying to say...badly. She's mentally frail, Ben, you must know that. Even more so now after what's happened." She paused. "I'm very sorry about the baby."

He nodded, but couldn't bring himself to delve any further into that part of it. "She doesn't give the impression of being frail. She's probably the strongest person that I know. Fifteen years of abuse and she was able to leave, find work, somewhere to live..."

Elizabeth sighed, "Sometimes it's the ones that appear strong that you have to watch out for. They're the ones with the furthest to fall when it all comes crashing down...and it usually does, eventually." She leaned forward again. "I really think it would be beneficial if she came back to therapy. We hadn't even begun to scratch the surface when she gave up, and so much has happened...do you think you could convince her?"

"I can try." He glanced at his watch and got to his feet. "I should go. Are we...are we ok?"

Elizabeth stood also and nodded, "Yes, we're ok. Ben..."

He turned from the door.

"Evelyn probably isn't the only one who could use the opportunity to talk to someone. Like it or not, you're a victim too. Now I know you might not feel comfortable opening up to me, but there are plenty of people that I could recommend..."

"I'll talk to Evelyn," he smiled reassuringly at her. "But as for me, I'm fine."

XXXX

Evelyn perched on the edge of the bath, watching as the water swirled out of the taps and collected in the tub below, mixing with the heady floral scent of the bath oil and creating foamy waves that she couldn't wait to sink into. It had been four days after the shooting until she had even been allowed a bed bath and then another two days before the nurses had risked taking her to the shower. By the time she had been able to go alone, the novelty of a clinical, hospital shower had worn off and she had longed for what she was about to experience. It had been somewhat of an effort to get her clothes off, careful as she had to be not to jerk herself too quickly lest she irritate the nicely healing wound on the right side of her abdomen, but she had been determined to do it on her own.

As she waited, she glanced around the small bathroom, festooned as it now was with the bottles and tubs that she had asked Ben to collect from her apartment. Though familiar, it still felt somewhat _un_ familiar. There had been no discussion between them as to how long she was going to stay, whether it be simply until she was more able to look after herself or whether it was to be a permanent arrangement, but she couldn't help feeling like a guest.

The water having reached an acceptable level, she shut off the taps, stood and gingerly lifted one leg over the side, wincing slightly at the pull in her side. She could call for him and knew that he would have no difficulty in helping her, but she ploughed on, taking her time until her body was submerged. Taking a deep breath, she basked in the full, pleasurable experience and closed her eyes as the water lapped around her neck. It felt incredible and, if she hadn't known that he had dinner waiting for her, she could have happily spent the whole night there.

Somewhat absent-mindedly, her hand drifted to her stomach the way it had before and she had to quickly remind herself that there was nothing there to coddle any more. When she had dared to ask the doctor, one evening at final rounds when Ben had left for the night, whether or not there was a chance she could fall pregnant again, he had told her that, physically, everything appeared to still be in working order. But though his mouth had spoken the words, his eyes had told a different story. After all, she would be forty-one soon and already lost five pregnancies...

All of a sudden she was jolted back to reality by a soft knock and Ben's head appeared around the door. "Everything ok in here?"

"Fine," she replied, pushing all thoughts of babies from her mind. "I can't tell you how good it feels. You should be in here with me."

"Well I wouldn't want dinner to burn," he replied. "But I could scrub your back if you want?"

"I'd like that."

He came fully into the room and knelt down on the floor beside the tub. Handing him the washcloth, she watched as he squeezed some gel onto it and then motioned for her to sit forward. As the soft material skirted over her back, she closed her eyes again, enjoying the sensation. "How's the pain?" he asked.

"Manageable," she replied. "But I'll probably need to take some painkiller when I get out."

"Well, the doctor said you should take them when you feel you need them, especially to help you sleep."

"I doubt I'll have trouble sleeping," she said, as he skimmed the cloth over her shoulder blades. "Hospital beds aren't exactly made for comfort." Opening her eyes, she met his gaze and tried to read what he was thinking. She was pretty sure it wasn't the same as what she was thinking, but then perhaps she shouldn't have been thinking it at all. "It'll be nice having you close."

Ben paused, "I...uh...well I...I wasn't sure whether or not you'd want to sleep in the guest room." She frowned. "I mean, I didn't know if you'd need space or simply be more comfortable..."

"Oh...I don't mind sleeping there if that's what you want..." she said, her heart sinking slightly.

"No, no...I just wasn't sure if it was what _you_ would want," he said hurriedly. "I want you beside me, but it was just in case..." A beeping noise came from the direction of the kitchen and he pulled himself to his feet. "I'd better catch that before the steaks are cremated."

Before she could say anything else he left, closing the door over behind him, which she took to mean that his part in her bathing was over. She quickly finished washing herself, then carefully got herself back out of the tub and pulled the plug. As she dried herself, she thought about what he had said and tried to convince herself that he was putting her possible need for comfort above his own needs rather than subtly telling her he didn't have any. After all, what had he said at the hospital? _You don't need any tips to get me excited..._

"I went to see Elizabeth yesterday," he said, sitting down at the table opposite her. "We buried the hatchet."

"I'm glad," she said genuinely. "I know it bothered you."

"She said that she thought it would be good for you to go back and see her. She wanted me to try and convince you."

Evelyn took the opportunity of chewing her steak before answering. "I'm not sure I could face it."

"Why?"

"Because last time I was there she must have thought I was having some kind of breakdown, mumbling about Eddie and my gun and..." she shook her head at the memory. "I didn't exactly come out of that incident well."

"She's a psychiatrist," he argued, "she would understand why you felt the way you did. Besides, you were able to talk to her at the hospital last week."

"That was different."

"How?"

"It just was. It was more like...like talking to a friend. She didn't take any notes, for one thing. Nothing could ever be used against me." She looked down at her plate. "Do you think Eddie's lawyer is going to bring it up at the trial?"

"That you went to therapy?" she nodded. "Maybe, but doesn't it hinder rather than help his case? If he never did all the things you're going to accuse him of, why would you need therapy?"

His words made sense, just as she had known they would and a sudden burst of heat shot through her. Whether it was the aftermath of the bath, the warmth of the steak or just him, she wasn't sure, but she loosened her robe slightly and fanned herself with it. "This is delicious, by the way. Beats the food at the hospital." Glancing over, she caught his eyes flicker down to where the top of her chest was exposed and then back up again.

"I'm glad you like it," he replied. "There's apple pie too if you're still hungry."

Evelyn finished the last mouthful and put her cutlery down on her plate, keeping her gaze on him.

"Starving."

XXXX

At ten o'clock Ben switched off the television, checked that the apartment door was locked and then stole quietly into the bedroom. The light at his side of the bed was still on, casting a dim glow around the room and highlighting Evelyn's sleeping form at the opposite side. She had gamely sat up with him watching television, her body close to his on the couch, his arm draped around her shoulder, until her eyes had started to droop and her head loll and she had quietly told him that she thought it was time for bed. He had told her that he would wait a while longer before joining her, allowing her to get herself comfortable first, and thought he had seen a flicker of disappointment cross her face. But she had yawned quickly thereafter, so he had told himself he must have been mistaken.

Quietly now, so as not to waken her, he got undressed, pulled back the covers and slid in beside her. In the past, he would have instinctively rolled towards her, pushed himself gently against her back, buried his face in her hair and felt the comfort of her warmth against him. Now...now he wasn't sure what to do, so he lay on his back and looked at the shadows on the ceiling.

He knew he should want her.

But in that moment, he didn't.

When he had washed her back...nothing. When he had seen her robe fall open at the table...nothing. The thought of her naked, the thought of touching her, kissing her, being inside her...none of it made him react the way that it should, none of it excited him the way he had told her she did, and when he reached down, just to make sure he wasn't simply missing the signs, he was met only with limpness.

 _Get a grip..._ he said to himself. _So much has happened...you'd be nothing but a jerk if all you wanted to do was bone her now..._

Evelyn stirred suddenly and rolled over onto her other side, letting out a low moan as she did so, but not waking. He looked down at her, her face against the pillow next to him, locks of hair falling over one eye, her breathing regular and even and he knew that he loved her...had to love her. Wasn't that what he had told her? What he had told Elizabeth?

Reaching around, he clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness and rolled away from her. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, a day to be spent with her mother, aunt, uncle and family, then he had promised Pamela and Peter that they could come down to the city on Friday to spend the weekend. Evelyn had been fine at his decision, enthusiastic even to see his children again.

There would be other nights, he reassured himself, nights when he _would_ want her, when he wouldn't be able to contain himself, just like there had been in the past.

After all, sex had never been their problem.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the delay...I struggled with this chapter a bit so I hope it turned out ok!**

Evelyn woke first on Thanksgiving morning, initially confused at the lack of hustle and bustle that she had been used to for the last few weeks. There had always been something going on at the hospital, regardless of how early she had woken so, being confronted with silence was initially disconcerting. It was only when she looked across the bed to see Ben sleeping beside her that she remembered where she was. She hadn't heard him come to bed and, for a fleeting moment, she felt disappointed. Even if there had been no intimacy, just feeling his arms around her would have been nice.

She lay for a while, looking at the ceiling and thinking back to the previous evening when he had come into the bathroom and washed her back. She remembered the sensation of the cloth skimming over her body and how she had cursed the sound of the oven that had pulled him away. Was she crazy? Was it crazy to be slowly recovering from a bullet wound and, rather than focus on her physical health, be tormented with the lack of an intimate touch? He shifted slightly beside her and she rolled carefully over onto her side to watch him sleep, feeling warmed at how boyish and unconcerned he looked.

 _It's true, what I said to Elizabeth...if only I'd met you instead of Eddie..._

Dropping a soft kiss on his forehead, she slowly manoeuvred herself out of the bed, lifted her robe and stole quietly through into the living room where the clock on the wall told her that it was just past eight o'clock. They were due at her aunt's house for lunch around twelve and though she knew that there would be plenty food to soak up the copious amounts of alcohol that would be on offer, it seemed sensible to start the day with a good breakfast. Not to mention the fact that having cooked dinner the previous night and being good enough to have her stay at all, she wanted to at least contribute something.

In the kitchen she found eggs, flour and milk and set to work making pancakes on the stove. Inside the fridge, there was a bowl of strawberries, left over from dessert the previous evening and a container of maple syrup in the cupboard. As she worked away, she flicked on the radio that sat in the corner and smiled when she realised it was tuned to a station that specialised in old hits from the fifties and sixties. The tunes were familiar and comforting.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, jeez!" she jumped at the sound of Ben's voice and, turning, saw him standing in the kitchen doorway dressed in a t-shirt and his underpants. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he said, coming in to look over her shoulder. "Pancakes?"

"Yeah, I figured it was only fair after you cooked last night." She moved the batter around the hot pan and flipped it over. "I think I might have made a little too many though so I hope you're hungry."

"I'm sure I could manage something," he replied, stealing a strawberry from the bowl and biting into it. "But you should be resting not cooking."

"I'm fine. Besides, I can't sit around all the time." She slid the pancake onto a plate and put the pan back on the stove. "I'll grow roots, not to mention get fat." Turning, she put her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest before tilting her head back to look up at him. "But I guess we can always work some of it off later, right?" He nodded, finishing the fruit. "I didn't hear you come to bed last night."

"Well I didn't want to wake you," he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I figured you needed your rest."

"I wouldn't have minded if you'd woken me," she replied, a shiver running through her body at his touch. Taking hold of his hands, she gently guided them inside her robe and onto her waist. "I wouldn't have minded at all."

A fleeting look of panic suddenly crossed his face and he pulled back from her, turning to the fridge and opening the door. "I...uh...think we might be out of milk."

"Oh..." she lifted the carton she had been using and shook it. "Oops, sorry I didn't realise."

"It's all right, the bodega across the road is always open, holidays or no holidays. I'll get dressed and pop over there."

"Well...don't you want some breakfast first? Pancakes are best served warm, you know."

"I'll only be ten minutes," he said before disappearing back to the bedroom and re-emerging moments later fully dressed. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Oh...uh...no, I don't think so," she replied, watching as he disappeared out of the door before she had completed her sentence. Sighing, she turned back and stacked the pancakes onto a plate before carrying them through to the table. The strawberries and syrup came next and she also made a pot of coffee. Then she sat down at the table, the ticking of the clock on the wall her only companion, and waited.

XXXX

Ben stood under the shower letting the water beat down on him, the noise drowning out everything else, except his own thoughts. He had lingered at the bodega far longer than he intended to and when he had finally got back to the apartment, he could tell that Evelyn was slightly put out. But they had eaten breakfast together and made conversation, although it had felt ever so slightly forced and every time he caught her eye he was convinced that she was thinking about sex. The way she had sat at the table, her robe open just enough to tease him, how she had licked the syrup from her fingers...he put his hand against the wet tiles and let out a long breath.

What the hell was wrong with him? Rewind a few weeks and he would have had her on her back on the table amidst the pancakes and syrup. Hell, he might even have considered incorporating them. Now, the very thought made him shrivel rather than swell.

 _You don't want to have sex with her, it's not a crime. If the shoe was on the other foot and she didn't want to, you would respect that._

"But I'm supposed to be the man," he explained to no-one in particular. "I'm supposed to want it...want her..."

 _You're not a machine. You can't just flick a switch and be ready to go all the time. Besides, she was shot two weeks ago. She probably doesn't really want it anyway._

He shut off the water and stepped out, wrapping himself in a towel and wiping steam from the mirror. His reflection cruelly reminded him that he would be fifty one years old in a matter of weeks and, right now, he felt every one of those years. What was Evelyn even doing with him? She was forty and beautiful with a lot of life still left in her, poised to bloom once she had put her past behind her. Why in God's name was she hitching her wagon to him anyway?

Back in the bedroom, he found Evelyn standing in her underwear looking through the clothes that he had brought to the apartment for her, critically lifting one piece after the other and holding it against her. For a moment, she didn't notice him and he simply watched her, his eyes roaming over her body yet never moving far from the end of the twisted scar that snaked upwards from her abdomen.

"You know there's a law against peeping," she said suddenly, catching his eye in the mirror. "Which do you think I should wear? The blue dress or the black pants and green blouse?" She held them up in succession for his approval.

"Whichever makes you feel the most comfortable," he replied safely.

"Some help you are." She tossed them back onto the bed and walked over to stand in front of him. "Did you have a nice shower?"

"It was fine as far as showers go," he replied, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable.

"Hmmm..." her fingers strayed to the twist of the towel around his stomach. "We could have doubled up and saved some water. I could have scrubbed your back this time..." She pushed her body gently against his, her breasts pressing against his chest, her mouth raised tantalisingly up towards his, catching his lips gently, then kissing him more forcefully, her tongue sliding between his teeth. Instinctively, his hands went to her waist, then lower down over her buttocks, pulling her pelvis into his. As he did so, he silently begged his body to respond to the beautiful, sexy woman whose hands were moving down to where the towel was fastened mere inches away from his cock...

 _Come on...come on...!_

But his body betrayed him and the only way he could have described it, if he had been asked, was like a door being slammed shut in his face, stopping him dead in his tracks, preventing him from going forwards, even if he wanted to. The towel slipped from his waist and he knew he had to stop her. "Evelyn...don't..."

She paused and looked up at him, her expression a mixture of hurt and confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just..." he paused, wondering how best to put how he was feeling yet knowing that anything he said was simply going to sound like an excuse. "I just...just don't feel like it, that's all. I'm sorry."

"Have I done something wrong?" she asked.

"No, of course not."

"Then why don't you want to touch me?"

"I _do_ want to touch you," he deflected. "I have touched you, haven't I?"

"I'm not talking about holding my hand or...or patting my arm. I'm talking about _touching_ me... _wanting_ me...Last night...today...it just...feels like you don't."

"That's ridiculous..."

"Is it? Then let's make love." She slid her panties to the floor and reached around behind her back to unhook her bra. "You said I didn't need any tips to get you excited, remember? Just the sight of me ought to do it, right?"

He could see the whole scar now, angry and red, almost mocking him. It didn't matter that the rest of her was on display, all his eyes could focus on was the jagged red line and the puncture marks on either side from where the staples had been. It certainly wasn't the work of a craftsman, not in the way he would have imagined. It was ragged, ugly, done in haste to save life...and end it.

"I disgust you, don't I?" She stepped back, her voice shaking, tears filling her eyes and he hated himself even more.

"No, of course not," he replied, but it all came out wrong. His tone was flat rather than sincere, as though he was only saying what she might want to hear, and she turned away, reaching slowly for her discarded underwear.

"It's fine. You don't have to say anything else."

He felt terrible, worse than he'd ever felt before and though he desperately wanted to reach for her, he just couldn't. "Evelyn, please...that's not..."

"I said it's fine." She lifted her clothes and pushed past him into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her.

He sank down onto the bed and put his head in his hands.

 _You can't do it and you know why you can't do it. Just admit it to yourself._

"I don't know," he said aloud. "I don't know why..."

 _Yes you do._

 _She deserves someone better._

XXXX

The atmosphere in the cab was tense and it was all Evelyn could do to focus on the city buildings as they crawled their way uptown. When she had emerged, fully dressed, from the bathroom, Ben had looked as though he wanted to say something to her, but the humiliation of having stripped naked for him and then been refused ran deep. It felt like that night in his office, when she had told him to make love to her on the desk and he had turned his back on her. Rejection was a powerful emotion and though part of her wished they could have cancelled going to her aunt's for lunch, she knew that doing so would simply cause more issues than it would potentially solve. Besides, being amongst other people had to better than the two of them being alone.

"If you get tired, just say and we can always leave early," he said suddenly.

She glanced over at him, sincerity written all over his face, then turned back to the window. "I'll be fine."

"I know, but I don't want you to push yourself..."

"I said I'll be fine," she repeated, not caring if she sounded harsh. She could wound just as deep as he could if she put her mind to it. Ten minutes later they pulled up in front of her aunt's building and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Ben paid the driver and the doorman let them in. As the elevator ascended to the third floor, she reached for his hand. Seemingly surprised, he looked at her hopefully, but she shot him down. "We just don't want them to think we've been fighting, do we?"

"Evelyn, we need to talk..."

"Not now," she cut him off as the doors slid open.

"Why is it alright for you not to be in the mood but not for me?" he persisted, following her down the corridor towards her aunt's apartment.

"There is a difference between not being in the mood and being completely turned off," she replied, knocking on the door. "And it was pretty clear how you felt when you looked at me."

"You have no idea how I felt when I looked at you."

"I don't want to talk about this, ok?" Evelyn fixed her best smile on her face as the door swung open and she was suddenly enveloped in her aunt's embrace. "I'm sorry, the traffic was a lot heavier than we thought it would be. I hope we haven't spoiled lunch or anything?"

"No, of course not. It won't be ready for another half hour." Her aunt beamed. "You look lovely, darling, if a little pale which is only to be expected." She turned to Ben. "And this must be the charming Mr Stone that I've heard so much about!"

"Oh...uh, Ben, please," he said, passing over the flowers they had purchased en route. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs Walker,"

"Well if I'm to call you Ben then you must call me Patricia. These are so beautiful, thank you," she replied, accepting them gratefully. "What a thoughtful man you have there, Evelyn. So different from the last one. Come in, come in!" She turned and bustled down the hallway and they followed her into the living room where the others were assembled. "Evelyn and Ben are here!"

It was like something out of a cheesy movie, Evelyn couldn't help but think as everyone exchanged greetings. Sarah came bounding off of the couch to hug her and then Ben, tossing her a thumbs up behind his back as she did so, before her husband Nick came forward to kiss her on the cheek and shake Ben's hand.

"Where are the boys?" Evelyn asked, air-kissing her mother as she slid past carrying a tray of drinks.

"In the spare room watching the game with Dad," Sarah rolled her eyes. "We'll be lucky if we see them before the food gets served." She turned back to Ben. "Susan tells me that you have two children."

"That's right," he replied. "Peter and Pamela."

"How old are they?"

"Peter's fifteen and Pamela's thirteen."

"Mine are seventeen and eleven. It's a trying age." She lifted a glass from the tray. "Do you see them often?"

"As often as I can. They live in Connecticut with their mother."

"Ah yes, the curse of the broken home," Sarah said dramatically.

"Sarah!" Evelyn exclaimed.

"Oh Ben knows I'm just pulling his leg, don't you Ben? God, sometimes I think a broken home would be better than an intact one. You've no idea how I sometimes long to cast this one off," she gestured to Nick who simply raised his eyebrows in a long-suffering way. "Anyway, once you're divorced Evelyn, you can marry Ben and live happily ever after."

"Who's marrying Ben?" Patricia asked, wandering back into the conversation, drink in hand.

"I am, mother," Sarah replied deadpan. "I'm going to kill Nick and be a very wealthy, eligible widow that Mr Stone here won't be able to refuse." She winked as Patricia looked between them all, slightly agog. "I'm kidding! _Evelyn's_ going to marry Ben, of course!"

"You're getting married?!" Patricia swivelled her gaze to her. "Your mother never mentioned it."

"Well, not really..." Evelyn said. "I'm still married to Eddie."

"Urgh..." she waved her hand dismissively. "The least said about _him_ the better! But when you _do_ get around to it, remember to ask me about the flowers. I've got great connections with flowers these days you know _and_ I could probably get you a discount."

"I'll bear that in mind..."

"Patty, stop giving her a hard time," Susan said, appearing from the kitchen. "Hello Ben, it's lovely to see you again."

"And you," he replied.

"You should be sitting down," Susan said authoritatively, taking Evelyn's arm and guiding her towards the couch.

"I'm fine, Mom, really..."

"Just sit there and enjoy being waited on for once," she insisted. "Tell me, Ben...has she tried to take over in your apartment yet?"

"Uh...well..." he caught Evelyn's eye and smiled, "she did insist on making breakfast this morning."

"Good Lord, Evelyn," Patricia tutted. "You were shot two weeks ago for heaven's sake. You should be sitting with your feet up allowing this _gorgeous_ man to wait on you, hand and foot!" A beeping noise came from the kitchen and she and Susan hurried away.

"It's not really in my nature," Evelyn replied. "Besides, it was only pancakes."

"Oh well..." Sarah rolled her eyes mockingly. "I'm surprised Ben lived to actually come here with you today. The last time you made _me_ pancakes I was sick as a dog."

"That was over twenty years ago! I think my culinary skills might have improved somewhat since then." She looked up at Ben and couldn't help but smile at him. "You seem to have survived so far at least."

"Stomach like an ox."

"God, you're going to need it," Sarah said, dropping her voice slightly. "I don't know _what_ Mom has done to the turkey but it looks as if it was dragged off a funeral pyre and biked over here. If I were you, Ben, I'd join some of the menfolk in the spare room. I hear there might be beef jerky in there."

"Oh I'm...I'm alright here," he replied, looking at Evelyn again.

"I'm sorry, I forget we've only just met so you won't have sussed out my little quirks yet," Sarah said. "It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order. I want to talk to my cousin here and I don't think you should be ear-wigging on what I have to say. _Id est..._ I want to talk to her about _you_."

"Oh...right..." he said, good-naturedly. "Then you'd better direct me towards the spare room."

"Down the hall, first door on the right," Sarah said. "I've got a hundred bucks on the Dolphins. Nick, go with him," she flapped her hand at her husband. "You might actually learn something." She waited as they both ambled down the hall and then turned back to Evelyn. "Twenty years we've been married and he still knows nothing about American football. Honestly."

"You wouldn't change him though, would you?" Evelyn teased.

"Lord, no. Nobody else would have me. Nobody else would have him either for that matter but that's by the by..." She slid her arm around Evelyn's shoulder. "I _like_ Ben. Good looking, kind..."

"Yes, he's all of those things."

"And he clearly adores you."

Evelyn paused. "What makes you say that?"

Sarah pulled back and frowned at her. "What makes me say that? The way he looks at you, of course. I've been in his company all of, what, ten minutes and I can already tell. You've struck gold there, Ev, I'm telling you. No offence, but Edward never so much as _glanced_ at you with _half_ as much affection in all the years I had the misfortune to know him." She leaned in again. "I bet the two of you are dynamite in bed together too, right?" Evelyn opened her mouth to reply. "No, don't tell me. It's none of my business." She got to her feet as her mother called her name from the direction of the kitchen. "Wish me luck. I _know_ she's about to ask me to rescue this damn turkey..."

Momentarily left alone, Evelyn got to her feet and wandered over to the drinks cabinet on the far side of the room. Patricia certainly hadn't scrimped on alcohol. Vodka, gin, rum, wine...if a person wanted to go at it hard, all the tools were there. She looked down at the glass of soda in her hand and sighed. The medication she was taking was contraindicated with liquor but...it _was_ Thanksgiving. Unscrewing the top of the nearest vodka bottle, she poured a generous helping into her glass and stirred it with her finger.

She had always been more attractive when she was drunk, or so Edward had always said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Pulled a bit of a late nightery for you (or rather, late for me!) Hope you enjoy it!**

 **Cynthia, I hope you're still out there somewhere. I miss your wonderful reviews!**

"So Ben, how long have you worked at the District Attorney's office?" Patricia asked conversationally as they sat around the table.

The football game had ended with a win for the Cowboys and though Ben had tried, out of politeness, to engage Sarah's husband in conversation it had mostly involved Nick constantly asking him the rules of play while the boys, Philip and Chris, told their dad to shut up in a manner that reminded him of their mother. Patricia's husband Joe had said little, his eyes never leaving the screen. When they had been called for lunch he had been grateful to get back to Evelyn, but she had barely looked at him, choosing to focus instead on the contents of her glass. He couldn't help but think, as he had taken his seat opposite her, that she looked devastatingly unhappy and he hated himself that little bit more for the part he knew he was playing.

"Oh...a long time," he replied. "Must be twenty years or so."

"And you've never thought about batting for the other team?"

"Ben would be a terrible defence attorney," Evelyn said before he could reply. "Everything's black and white with him, no shades of grey."

"That's not entirely true," he said, slightly stung by her words. He looked over at her, glass in hand, looking at him with an expression that almost dared him to engage her in battle. "I like to think of myself as not lacking in empathy."

"I'm sure no-one would suggest you were," Susan said, helping herself to turkey. "After all, Evelyn, he's had to be very empathetic regarding you and your situation. A lot of men might not be so willing to take all that on board. "

There was a moment of slightly stunned silence around the table, broken only by the sound of cutlery on plates. Evelyn paused, her glass halfway to her mouth, and stared at her mother. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's a lot for any man to deal with. A woman coming from a difficult relationship..."

"Difficult?"

"...then falling pregnant when you did and...well...the shooting..."

"Really?" Evelyn put her glass down on the table with a thump. "Gosh, I never realised Ben had to put up with so much because of me. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience that I've caused you, Ben." She swung her gaze towards him and he could instantly see, despite the harshness of her tone, that she was upset.

Susan paused in her chewing and stared at her daughter, "I only meant..."

"I know what you meant, _mother_. Thank you so much for your support. Not that I should really be surprised given your track record. You haven't exactly come out to bat for me when it's been necessary."

Ben glanced around the table as the scene unfolded before him and couldn't help but feel as though he were in the middle of some terrible play. Sarah was staring at her cousin, wide-eyed, Nick was staring at his plate and the boys were obviously trying hard not to laugh. "Uh...Evelyn, maybe this isn't..."

"Please don't take that tone with me," Susan said mildly, putting her cutlery down. "You've been through a lot, no-one is denying that. All I'm saying is that it would take someone special, like Ben, to be able to help you through it all and take on all that...baggage. It seems egregiously unfair for you to suggest that he lacks empathy."

"I never said that he lacked empathy," Evelyn said. "I said..."

"Well the implication was there. Ben's done a lot for you and you should remember that."

"As opposed to you." The silence lengthened as mother and daughter glared at each other across the table and Ben reached over to take Evelyn's hand in an attempt to encourage her to back off, only for her to snatch it away. "Where has your empathy and support been all these years, Mom? Oh, I forgot, you prefer to just look the other way."

Susan paused before speaking. "This is neither the time nor the place to rehash this argument, Evelyn. We are guests here after all." She smiled at Ben, clearly hoping to guide the conversation in a different, more pleasant, direction. "Will you be seeing your children over the holiday weekend, Ben?"

"Don't start with all the fake family niceties now," Evelyn cut in before he could reply. "Acting as if Ben's the son you never had. It wasn't that when I told you I was pregnant and you told me that I could have an abortion and not even tell him." Susan's face dropped. "How it was unfair to ask a man at his stage of life to start over again as a father, remember that?"

"That's not..." Susan's eyes darted between them and her cheeks reddened. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Wasn't it?" Evelyn pushed her chair back from the table and stalked into the living room, glass in hand. For a moment Ben paused, caught in the awkward silence that followed, but something made him decide to follow her and by the time he reached her, she was already swirling vodka into her glass.

"What are you doing?" he said, grabbing the bottle. "You're not supposed to be drinking!"

"She's a fucking hypocrite! Sucking up to you the way she sucked up to Eddie at the beginning then looked the other way for the next fifteen years while he destroyed my life..." she swallowed some of the neat vodka and made a face, "and somehow, _I'm_ in the wrong for wanting someone to be there for me?"

"Ok..." he said, taking the glass from her and putting it out of reach on the shelf above. "That's not what she said..."

"It's what she meant. Poor Ben, having to take on so much with baggage-laden Evelyn..."

"That's not how I see it," he said firmly.

"Isn't it? Maybe that's why you don't want me." She tried to move past him to reach the glass, but he stepped in her way. "Please, for God's sake, just let me have another drink!"

"No. How much have you had anyway?"

"Please..." she whined. "Just let me get drunk. If I'm drunk then maybe...maybe you'll find me attractive again and maybe you'll want me...please Ben..."

It sounded pathetic, like a child whining over candy and yet, while it should have irritated him, _would_ have irritated him if it had come from anyone else, it only served to heighten his protective instincts. He wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her that he _did_ want her, that he would never want anyone else, despite what she might think of him. "Evelyn, that's..."

"Is everything ok in here?" Sarah's voice sounded from behind and, turning, he saw her standing in the doorway, her eyes flickering between them. "Aunt Susan's pretty upset."

"My heart bleeds," Evelyn replied.

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I?"

"Evelyn, she's your mom."

"What would you know about it, Sarah?" Evelyn asked caustically. "You couldn't _wait_ to get away from _your_ mother, so much so you had to move across the fucking Atlantic! I've seen you, what, six times in the last fifteen years?"

"And whose fault is that?" Sarah replied, her eyes narrow. "How many times did I ask you to come over to visit us in London? You always had an excuse and every time I _did_ come home I was lucky if I got half an hour with you! You were always too busy with much more important things."

"Oh my God, you sound just like her!"

"Who?"

"My mother! She never saw me enough in the years that I was with Eddie and somehow that was _my_ fault for not making the effort. Nobody ever seems to think that it was because of what I was living with! That maybe he wouldn't let me see you! Or maybe I _couldn't_ see you because I had cuts and bruises! Don't you get that?!"

"So it's our fault?" Sarah asked. "It's our fault that you put up with Edward all these years? _You_ were the one living it, Evelyn. You could have walked away any time you wanted to."

Evelyn's mouth dropped open. "Is that what you really think?"

"Well you managed to do it successfully back in March. How come you were able to do it then and you couldn't do it before? Maybe if you had, you might have avoided certain things happening to you."

"So, it was all my fault? I asked for it?"

"Every week, every month, every year you stayed was another week, month or year that you let him abuse you!"

"You bitch...!"

"That's enough!" Ben stepped between them, primal instinct rising within him at Sarah's attack, and turned to Evelyn. "I think we should go."

"No, I think we should stay," she replied. "I'd like to hear more about how much I _deserved_ what happened to me!"

"That's not what I said!" Sarah retorted.

"We're going!" Ben said forcefully. "Come on, get your coat."

"No!"

"Look!" he took her by the shoulders. "You've had too much to drink and arguing about the past isn't going to do you any good right now! Don't you see that?"

"Let go of me..." she struggled feebly against him.

"No. I'm not letting you go. Look at me!" he demanded, tightening his grip. She stopped moving and looked up at him, her eyes wide, unshed tears shining in the corners. "I'm not ever letting you go, Evelyn, ok? Not ever. No matter what."

Evelyn didn't say anything for a long moment. She held his gaze, the first tear starting to slide down her cheek, and he felt her tremble under his hands as she whispered his name, her voice catching on it. "Ben..."

"Look, don't leave," Sarah said, running her hand through her hair. "It's just a silly argument, that's all. We've all said some things that we didn't mean..."

"I think it's better if we go," Ben insisted, sliding his arm around Evelyn's shoulder and feeling gratified by the way she leaned against him. "Evelyn's been through a lot and she needs some rest."

"I didn't mean to suggest..."

"Well you did." The sharpness of his own tone surprised him. She might believe that nobody in her family had come out to bat for her before, but he was damned if he was going to let her think that about him now.

"I'll get your coats," Sarah sighed before disappearing out of the room just as Patricia came in, her mouth pinched in some form of disapproval.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Ben said. "But I think it's best if I take Evelyn home now."

"It's been very nice to meet you," Patricia said tightly. "Evelyn's lucky to have you."

At her aunt's words, Evelyn turned her face into Ben's chest and closed her eyes. "I'm lucky to have her," he replied, squeezing her gently.

"What a mess."

"Yes, it is," he agreed as Sarah returned with their coats. "I'll have Evelyn give you a call tomorrow," he said as she allowed him to slide her arms into the holes, all the time ensuring that part of her was pressed against him.

"Family is important. It's the most important thing of all and maybe we..." Patricia broke off and looked at Sarah.

"I'm sorry," Evelyn said softly.

"Don't worry about it," her aunt stepped forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "It's been a stressful time for you. For both of you." She looked at Ben. "Please take care of her."

"I will," he nodded, before guiding her out of the apartment, stealthily avoiding Susan in the process.

They rode the elevator in silence and it was only once back out on the street that Evelyn pulled back and looked up at him again. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to suggest that you...I mean, I don't think that you..."

"I know. Your mother just picked up on something and ran with it."

"Am I really selfish?" She asked, her voice trembling again. "Do I take you for granted?"

"Of course not."

"But I wouldn't...I mean I wouldn't want you to think that I'm not...grateful..."

"I don't think that," he said, kissing her gently. "Besides, I don't want you to be grateful. I haven't done anything for you to be grateful for."

She reached up and touched his face gently, her expression sad. "Yes you have. More than you'll ever know." He stooped and kissed her again. "I love you, Ben."

"I love you too," he replied, "and so does your mother."

Evelyn looked away. "I shouldn't have said what I did."

"Well, the truth often comes out when alcohol's involved." She groaned and buried her face in his chest again, as though just remembering. "I should probably take you to the hospital."

"What for?"

"You could have poisoned yourself, mixing vodka and pills."

"I only had two drinks."

"I saw what you were pouring into that glass," he pushed her gently back and put his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him again. "Despite what you might think, being drunk doesn't make you more attractive. What I mean is," he clarified off her look, "that I couldn't _be_ any more attracted to you than I already am."

Her eyes roamed his face. "I don't need ten tips to get you excited."

"Exactly."

"So what am I doing wrong then?"

He sighed and stretched out his hand for a passing, vacant cab. "You're not doing anything wrong, sweetheart. It's not you, it's me...all me."

XXXX

The answering machine light was blinking when they got back to the apartment and when Ben pressed the playback button, Jack's voice filled the air.

"Ben, it's Jack. I'm sorry to call you on Thanksgiving, so I'll be brief. Judge Callaghan's clerk called me late last night and he wants to start the trial on December 6th, that's a week come Monday. I told him that should be ok, but maybe you could let me know over the weekend if you think Evelyn's going to be ready. I have to say though, I think the sooner it's over with, the better for her. Call me."

"So soon," Evelyn said as the machine clicked off. "I don't know what I was expecting but..." she trailed off, feeling her heart start to beat faster with anxiety, and sank down onto the couch. "I guess I hoped they might have been able to tie Eddie to the shooting and then the trial would have had to have been delayed."

"That's understandable," Ben said, sitting down beside her. "But I think Jack's probably right. The sooner it's over with, the better."

"I know," she agreed, turning to him. "And the sooner you might have a girlfriend that doesn't come with a truck load of baggage."

He reached out and touched her hair. "Evelyn...once the trial's over, even if you get the result you want...it's not going to magically make everything disappear." She looked away. "I really think you should consider going back to see Elizabeth."

"But I told you I feel embarrassed about what happened before."

"And I told you that there was no need to feel that way. You need to have someone to talk to, someone out with your family that you can be completely honest with about everything. It sounds like you harbour a lot of resentment towards them for what they _didn't_ do to help you when you were with Edward." He ducked his head to meet her gaze. "Would I be right?"

"Maybe. But I have you to talk to, don't I?"

He smiled ruefully, "I think you need to talk to someone other than me."

She paused and looked at him, this man who had taken on so much when he had fallen for her. In that fact, her mother had been right, she just hadn't wanted to admit it. In him she had found everything that had been missing from her life with Edward. It was so easy to always expect him to be strong for her, to listen to her and comfort her, and she knew she had thought very little of how her baggage, and there was no other word for it, had potentially affected him, until now. "Maybe _you_ need to talk to _me_."

"About what?"

"About what _you're_ thinking, what _you're_ feeling...I know I'm guilty of focusing too much on myself..."

"That's not true," he interrupted loyally.

"Yes it is," she said. "You said that this...block, or whatever it is, is all you. What did you mean?" He didn't say anything. "Ben...if we're going to be together, it can't always be about you saving me."

He laughed mirthlessly. "I guess that's the point."

"What is?"

"I can't save you. I can't protect you. Not from Edward, not from anyone." He looked down at the floor. "I couldn't protect you at the dinner...I couldn't protect you on the street..." He shook his head. "You've gone through so much...shit...and we both know there's more to come and I...I can't do anything."

"Oh Ben..." she felt her heart swell with love for him. "You do so much, can't you see that? I couldn't have gotten through any of this without you, you know that. You have been...my rock. I know it's a cliché but it's true. If I had never met you, then all of these things would have still happened, but I would have had to deal with them on my own."

"If you had never met me you wouldn't have even _been_ at the dinner. You wouldn't have been on the street that night. You wouldn't have been pregnant..." She watched, helplessly, as his eyes grew misty. "I gave you a child and, when it came down to it, I couldn't even protect it. What kind of a father does that make me? Laura was right...she's always been right..."

"No..." Evelyn pulled herself up onto her knees, ignoring the protest of her wound, and crawled forwards into his lap. "She wasn't right. She's never been right about that. Listen to me..." she took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "You are a _great_ father to those amazing teenagers of yours and you would have been just as good of a father to our baby...yes..." she insisted as he shook his head. "What happened that night was not your fault and you couldn't have done anything differently."

"I should have protected both of you..." his voice cracked. "And I can't help feeling that if it were to happen again..."

"If I get shot again, it'll be pretty dumb luck."

"I don't mean that. I mean, if you were to get pregnant again..." he paused and buried his face against her chest. "I can't..."

It suddenly became clear. "Is that why you can't touch me? You're scared that I'll get pregnant again?" He nodded. "Ben, the chances..."

"It happened first time, didn't it?" he raised his head and looked at her. "The first time I made love to you I got you pregnant."

"It wasn't a solo act," she said softly. "And we were careless. If we just take the time to think about proper precautions...Ben..." he shook his head. "Ben, we can't spend the rest of our lives together practicing celibacy."

"But I don't want to be responsible for you having more miscarriages or getting hurt," he insisted. "I know I can't protect you from Edward or the trial or what other people might try to do to you but I _can_ protect you from that." The look on his face was so earnest and she was reminded of his reaction when she had told him she was pregnant in the first place.

"So you never want to touch me again, or have me touch you?" She stroked his face gently. "You know, it might not be a bad thing for _you_ to have some therapy too. Leaving aside everything with Eddie, even forgetting the fact that I was shot..." she paused. " _We_ lost a child, not just me."

He burst into tears then and she held him to her, feeling his body convulse against hers, and gently stroked his hair, murmuring words of comfort in a soft voice. It felt strange, being the strong one. She had wept in his arms more times than she could recall, but as she held him, and felt his pain, she knew that something had changed.

And later, when her legs found their way around his waist and his mouth caressed her breasts, it was richer and fuller than she could have ever thought possible.


	7. Chapter 7

**Apologies for the delay in updating but the mundane aspects of daily life have gotten in the way this week! Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **Cynthia, good to have you back!**

 **I'm also working on a one-shot fic based on one of my favourite episodes 'American Dream' so hope to have that up soon too!**

"Evelyn!" The door of the apartment flew open and Pamela rushed inside, launching herself at Evelyn and embracing her fiercely, only pulling back at her undeniable wince of pain. "Sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"It's ok," Evelyn replied, returning the younger girl's affection. "It's still just a bit sore, that's all."

"Pamela, I told you to be careful," Ben said, coming in behind her with Peter.

"I said I was sorry!"

"It's fine," Evelyn looked at him pointedly, "really it is."

"Can we see the bullet hole?" Peter asked, his expression one of teenage fascination.

"Maybe later," she deflected. "How was your trip? You're later than I thought you'd be."

It was Friday afternoon and Ben had gone to the station to collect the kids, leaving Evelyn in the apartment to rest. Though she had wanted to go with him, he had insisted and gently reminded her that it might be a good idea for her to call her aunt and her mother. Twenty minutes after he had left, she had still been staring at the phone trying to work up the impetus to make either call. Eventually, she had called Patricia and apologised again for what had happened at lunch. Her aunt had graciously accepted the apology, told her there was no harm done, and that Sarah was hoping to see her again before she and the family flew back to London on Monday night. Evelyn had made all the right noises, but part of her wasn't keen to face her cousin again. Sarah's razor sharp tongue could be both witty and entertaining but, when her comments were directed at you...

Susan was a different kettle of fish entirely. Four times she started to dial the number and four times she put the phone down without completing it. What in God's name was she meant to say? She knew that she should be the bigger person and make her apologies, but inside she was screaming. There were so many things that she wanted to say to her mother about her behaviour during her marriage, yet wasn't sure she ever could. And, ultimately, what would be the point?

"The train was late," Peter said.

"We sat in the station for _ages_ ," Pamela said, taking her bag from her father and promptly dumping it on the couch. "So, what are we going to do?"

"How about taking a breath?" he joked.

"Very funny Dad..." she rolled her eyes before suddenly lighting up. "Ooh, can we go ice-skating at Rockerfeller Center?"

"You don't know how to skate," Peter replied contemptuously.

"Yes I do! Dad, tell him I know how to skate!"

"Peter, Pamela knows how to skate."

"Yeah well she isn't very good at it."

"All the more reason for you to be there, as her big brother, to help her."

Peter opened his mouth to respond, then seemed to think better of it and merely shrugged. "Sure, ok."

"Well I definitely can't skate," Evelyn said. "So I'll be quite happy watching you guys from the side."

"You can't skate because you got shot or you can't skate at all?" Peter asked.

"A little of both," she replied quickly before Ben could step in and chastise him. "I could probably manage to get myself round without falling but I'm no expert. I didn't have a big brother to help me out." Peter rolled his eyes slightly, but she could tell that he was thinking about what she had said.

"Do you have a sister?" Pamela asked.

"Nope. It's just me."

"Hmmm...wasn't that boring when you were a kid?"

"It could be."

"So, if we're decided on skating," Ben broke in, "do you want to go now or wait until it gets dark?"

"Is the tree lit?" Pamela asked.

"Not yet, not until next weekend."

She sagged slightly. "Then it doesn't matter."

"Ok," Ben said. "Then why don't we go now and then get some dinner on the way back?" The suggestion appeared to go down well and as Pamela and Peter grabbed their bags and started raking through them for warmer clothes, gloves and hats, he crossed the room to where Evelyn was standing and slid his arms around her waist. "Are you sure you'll be ok standing watching?"

"Give me a hot chocolate with a shot of rum and I'll be absolutely fine," she replied brightly. "Besides, I think I'll be kept pretty entertained watching _you_ skate."

"I'll have you know that I played hockey in high school," he replied, squeezing her good-naturedly. "And I was pretty damn good at it too."

"Don't tell me, Vic Hadfield had nothing on you, right?"

"Right."

XXXX

Despite what he had said, it didn't take Ben overly long to realise that skating at fifty was a hell of a lot harder than skating at fifteen had ever been. The rink was busy, given the holiday, and whilst Pamela had initially clung onto him as she found her feet, she had eventually taken off after Peter, falling over a few times in the process. Although he had given the impression that he wanted to lose her, he had helped her up each time and it warmed Ben to see the truth of their relationship. For all their bickering and fighting, he knew they were close and for that he was thankful.

Evelyn was standing over at the far side, bundled up against the chill of the wind, waving enthusiastically each time any of them had passed her and he couldn't help but think that she really would have made a wonderful mother, given the chance. In the past few hours, since telling her how he felt about not being able to protect her and the baby, he had felt a slight weight lift from him and when they had made love, safely, afterwards he had felt more connected to her than ever. It had been so long since he had had someone, anyone, to share true feelings with and for that too, he was thankful. He skated over to her and, in an attempt to stop with a flourish, almost fell over backwards, thankfully catching himself just in time.

"You'd better be careful," she laughed. "If we have to get you stretchered off this ice I'm going to be mighty embarrassed!"

"I don't think I'm doing too badly for a man who hasn't skated since Eisenhower was in the White House," he replied.

"I have to say, I'm pretty impressed, though I think Vic's reputation is safe."

"I'll take that as a compliment, I think."

She grinned as he leaned over the barrier to kiss her. "I always assumed baseball was more your thing."

"Latterly, yes."

"So what made you give up hockey?"

"Baseball was warmer," he replied, pulling her face against his and kissing her again for emphasis. "I haven't been this cold in I don't know how long."

"Well, they do say our blood thins when we get old."

"You better not be calling me old," he said, poking her gently. "You sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine," she replied, waving her plastic cup at him. "That hot chocolate went down a treat."

"I bet it did. No more though, not with your medication."

"I thought you were meant to be _their_ dad, not mine," she joked as Pamela came whizzing towards them, wobbling from side to side like Bambi, closely followed by a much more controlled Peter. "You both looked great out there."

"I told you I could skate," Pamela replied, her face flushed with the cold, "but I guess Dad and Peter helped a bit."

"I'm starving," Peter said. "Can we go and eat now?"

Ben nodded, grateful for the excuse to get out of the wind. "Yes, absolutely."

Twenty minutes later, they were warming up in the Rock Center Cafe, Peter and Pamela bickering over who had looked better on the ice and ribbing him for his rusty skating skills.

"So how was your day yesterday?" Evelyn asked once the waiter had taken their orders.

Instantly, a light seemed to die in both of them. Pamela started examining her fork whilst Peter turned to stare out of the window. Neither of them responded until he prompted them. "Evelyn asked you guys a question."

"It was fine," Peter replied finally.

"What did you do?"

"Watched the game, ate lunch...the usual."

"Was it just the four of you?" Evelyn asked.

"Who else would there be?" Peter asked, his tone harsh

"I'm...sorry," she said. "I thought maybe your grandparents..."

"They weren't invited," Pamela said.

"That's a little odd, isn't it?" Ben asked carefully.

"Mark doesn't like them."

He looked at his daughter. " _Mark_ doesn't like them?"

She shook her head. "He and Mom argued about it."

"Shut up Pam," Peter said quietly.

"They were yelling and screaming and then...things got broken."

"Shut up!"

"Peter..." Ben turned to him. "Let your sister talk."

"It's not her business!"

"What got broken?" he asked, ignoring Peter's protestations.

Pamela shrugged. "I don't know. Some plates I think. Mom was crying afterwards and..." she broke off as Peter pushed his chair back from the table and got to his feet. "I'm not lying!"

"I'm going to the restroom," he said huffily before storming off.

"I'm not lying," Pamela repeated, her eyes filling with tears. "Mom was upset afterwards but...but when I talked to her she said that it was nothing and that..."

"And that what?" Ben prompted when she didn't continue.

"And that she wasn't going to end up like you."

He frowned. "Like me?"

"No..." she looked over at Evelyn, "like you."

Evelyn looked at him before looking back at Pamela. "Like me?" Pamela nodded. "Did you know what she meant by that?"

Pamela looked down at her cutlery again. "She said...she said your husband hit you. That he's probably going to go to jail. Is that true?"

"Uh...Pamela..." Ben said before Evelyn could respond, "that's nothing that you need to worry about, ok?" She nodded. "Was...was your mother alright after that?"

"Fine. We all had lunch and it was fine." She wiped her arm across her eyes. "I shouldn't have said anything. Peter's going to be mad."

"Don't you worry about Peter," Ben reassured her, catching sight of his son crossing back towards the table. "We'll talk about something else." Peter's return to the table also heralded the arrival of their food and the conversation naturally drifted onto other things. Within minutes, the kids were arguing good-naturedly again, but every time he caught his daughter's eye, he could tell that there was probably a heck of a lot more that she wanted to say, but couldn't.

XXXX

 _She wasn't going to end up like you._

The nagging feeling wouldn't leave Evelyn alone, despite the fact that the remainder of the afternoon and evening had been spent pleasantly enough, with no return to the earlier conversation. After dinner they had gone to Aldo's for dessert before watching some terrible old B-movie that Peter had picked that had made her jump despite the fact that the special effects were like something from the land time forgot. The kids had found her fear hilarious and by the time they had gone to bed, Peter graciously agreeing to take the couch, it was as though nothing had ever been said. But she couldn't shake her own fears and as she slid into bed beside Ben, she knew she had to say something.

"So..." he said, rolling over to look at her. "Adam told me that, with all this vacation time, I should take you away somewhere."

"Really?" He nodded. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Where would you like to go?"

"Oh...I don't know..." she sighed dramatically. "London, Paris, Rome..."

"One day I'll take you all those places," he laughed, "but right now I was thinking more along the lines of somewhere in the United States."

"You don't have to take me anywhere," she said, tracing his lips gently with her finger. "I'm happy right here with you."

"I know, but I think it would do you some good to get away for a few days before the trial starts."

She paused, the trial almost forgotten in light of the day's events. "Oh, you mean next week?"

"Yeah, I thought we might be able to fit something in."

"Well, I don't mind. You choose."

"So that I can take all the blame if you don't like it?" he teased. "You need to at least give me an idea of what you'd like."

"Ok, let me have a think and I'll come back to you." She paused. "Look, maybe it's not my place but..."

"But what?"

"I'm worried about the kids."

He frowned. "Because of what Pamela said?" She nodded. "I don't know, Evelyn...she can be a little overdramatic at times."

"It didn't sound that way to me," Evelyn replied, propping herself up on her elbow. "Mark not wanting her grandparents there, screaming and shouting, throwing plates...not to mention what she claimed Laura said about me."

"You think something's going on?"

"Don't you?"

Ben sighed. "Laura has never struck me as being the kind of person who would..."

"Who would what? Put up with that sort of thing?"

"I didn't mean..."

"This isn't about me," she waved her hand dismissively. "The point is that it's never the people you think it is. You see your ex-wife, a person you believe to be strong and independent and you can't fathom that she might actually be a victim. Just because she would never have put up with that sort of behaviour from you doesn't mean that she's not willing to put up with it from him." He didn't say anything. "Look, how long have they been together?"

"I don't know, more than six months?"

"So then, if it _is_ happening, it's only the beginning. She's not...entrenched in it yet." She paused. "Half of my problem is that I wish someone...anyone...had recognised what was happening between Eddie and me years ago. If they had, and they had done something to help me, who knows how differently things might have turned out for me. Do you really want to stand in front of your kids in fifteen years time and tell them that you suspected something but you did nothing?"

Ben paused. "This is all coming from only a few things Pamela said. Laura is not going to take kindly if we go in there and start accusing Mark of all sorts of things."

"I'm not saying we should do that, but I think it might be a good idea for you to take the kids home yourself on Sunday and talk to her. Sound her out, see if she gives anything away. You've already told her you were thinking of asking the kids to come and live with you so it shouldn't make her suspicious."

"I suppose..."

"Look, if we're wrong then what have you lost? So she might be pissed at you. Newsflash, she already is. But if we're right...I don't particularly like or dislike her but I'm human enough not to wish what I've been through on someone else, especially not when there's kids involved."

"You're right," he said, reaching out and stroking her hair. "I'll take them back on Sunday and see what she says. If it's true..."

"If it's true then she needs help, regardless of what you might think about her. I mean it, Ben," she said earnestly. "I care about your kids and I don't want them to have to live in that kind of environment."

"I know," he said, "and I love you for it. I promise you that I'll talk to her, ok?"

"Ok," she said, lying back down beside him, momentarily satisfied. "As long as you do."

XXXX

Despite the exertions of the day, Ben found that sleep evaded him. After kissing Evelyn goodnight and rolling over, he had hoped it would claim him quickly, but instead he found himself staring into the darkness, listening as her breathing grew even, Pamela's words running through his head. He hadn't formed much of an impression of Mark. At the hospital, he had appeared to be quietly supportive of Laura and though he hadn't said much when they had had dinner after Peter's game, he certainly hadn't struck him as a potential abuser.

Edward Burns. Now he was a different kettle of fish. Loud, brash, arrogant...all the qualities that made it easy to believe that he would raise his hand or twist things to suit his own ends. Mark wasn't like that, and yet Ben had seen enough domestic abusers in the past to know that it took all kinds. Whilst he knew he should feel for Laura, if that was indeed the situation in which she was finding herself, he couldn't help but feel angry. Angry that she was allowing herself to be in that situation and, more so, allowing the kids to be in it too. If it was that bad, why didn't she just kick him out? It couldn't be that difficult, surely?

Rolling over again, he caught sight of Evelyn's face pressed into the pillow beside him, lit by the moonlight coming through the window and instantly, he felt guilty. Wasn't that almost exactly the line Sarah had thrown her the previous day? Wasn't that the impression that her whole family had? Why hadn't she just left? It was all too easy to think that you knew best when it wasn't you faced with the situation.

Quietly, so as not to wake her, he climbed out of bed and silently padded through to the kitchen for a drink. He was just pulling a cup out of the cupboard when he heard a noise behind him and, turning, saw Peter standing the doorway.

"You made me jump," he said. "I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd make some warm milk. You want some?"

Peter hesitated for a moment and then nodded, "Sure."

"Ok," Ben said, somewhat surprised. He set about boiling the milk in the pan whilst Peter leaned against the counter watching him. "You couldn't sleep either?"

"No offence, but I think you need a new couch."

"I'm sorry. Next time I'll get you an air mattress."

"So...Evelyn's here to stay then."

Ben paused and turned to look at him. "Well, she's staying here just now while she recuperates but she has her own apartment, you know that." Peter didn't say anything. "I thought you liked her."

"I do," he replied quickly. "I mean...she's ok."

He handed him a cup. "Just ok?"

"She seems nice," Peter shrugged, accepting it before turning and heading over to sit at the table. Ben followed and sat down opposite him. "Is what Mom said true?"

"Which part?"

"About Evelyn's husband hitting her. About him going to jail."

"Uh...well..." he paused, unsure how much to divulge. "Yes, he wasn't very nice to her when they were married..."

"Dad..." Peter interrupted. "I'm fifteen, not five. You don't need to sugar coat it."

Ben looked at him in the dim light, at how grown up he had become right before his eyes. "Ok...yes he hit her a lot when they were together and on top of that, he made her dependant on him, stopped her seeing her friends and her family..."

"Why didn't she just leave?"

His own thoughts came flooding back to him. "Because it isn't that easy, Peter, not when you've lived like that for so long. But I guess there comes a point where you decide...enough is enough."

"What was that point?"

"I'm not sure," he lied, convinced that his son didn't need to know all the details. "But I'm glad that she left."

Peter looked down into his mug. "Pamela wasn't lying. Mom and Mark did have a row about Thanksgiving and he did throw some plates. It...it wasn't the first time. They're always arguing and..." he broke off.

Ben reached over and covered Peter's hand with his. "It's ok."

"I hate it. I hate him. I wish...I wish he'd just go away." Peter raised his eyes and Ben could see the shine of tears. "Dad...can we...can we come and live with you?"

"I..."

"I know it's a lot to ask but...but Pam was so scared after their fight and..."

"Has he threatened either of you?" Ben demanded. "Has he hurt you?"

"No, but...but I just don't want to stay there. Please...please Dad..." Peter dissolved into tears and Ben got to his feet, pulling him into his arms and holding him properly for the first time in as long as he could remember. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

"It's alright," Ben soothed him softly. "It's alright son, I'm here." He caught sight of movement over Peter's shoulder and saw Evelyn framed in the bedroom doorway. He shook his head silently at her and she retreated back inside, closing the door quietly behind her.

This was his moment with Peter, a moment he had long ago given up on ever having again. This time, he wasn't going to let him down.


	8. Chapter 8

**Enjoy and happy weekend all! :)**

"Do you mean it? We could come and live with you?"

"Well..." Ben chose his words carefully in response to Pamela's question. "There's a lot to think about..." The three of them were sat around the table, breakfast momentarily forgotten in light of the topic of conversation at hand.

"But we _could_ live with you?" she pushed.

"If that was something that you both wanted, then it's definitely something that we could consider."

"What's there to consider?" Peter demanded. "If we want to come and live here, why can't we just do it? You and Mom just agreed between yourselves that we should live with her after you split up, right?"

"Yes we did," Ben agreed, "and I think it's doubtful that your mother will want to change that arrangement."

"Can she stop us?"

"Well you're both minors..."

"I'll be sixteen in March!" Peter said, clearly outraged at being classed as not adult enough to make the decision.

"I know that, but as far as the courts are concerned, you are classed as a minor until you're eighteen and either myself, your mother or the courts have to make decisions for you based on what is in your best interests. Sometimes that isn't always what _you_ might think is in your best interests."

"So we don't even get a say?"

"Peter...calm down..." Ben reached over and took his son's hand, grateful that he didn't automatically pull away. "Of course you would get a say if things went that far. I'm hoping, however, that if I talk to your mother she might agree to let you come and stay here, at least for a little while if not permanently."

"No she won't," Pamela said mournfully.

"Well there's no harm in asking," he replied, though he couldn't help but think back to the conversation he and Laura had had merely weeks earlier when his suggestion of revisiting the custody agreement had simply caused anger.

"What about Evelyn?" Peter asked suddenly.

"What about her?"

"Well...does she want us here?"

"Evelyn doesn't live here full time..."

"But you want her to."

Ben had to smile at his son's perceptiveness. "Yes, I want her to, but that's not my primary concern right now. Evelyn knows about all of this though and she's completely supportive of the idea. She just thought it would be good for the three of us to talk about it on our own first."

When he had finally settled Peter back to sleep on the couch and gone back to bed, she had been awake waiting for him and when he had filled her in on what his son had said, she had immediately volunteered to go back to her own apartment in the morning to allow them to talk.

"The biggest issue would be your schooling." Neither of them said anything. "If you came to live here, you'd have to transfer to a city school and given how crucial your education is..."

"We could do that," Pamela said.

"Could I still play ball here?" Peter asked.

"I'm sure we could find something for you," Ben replied. "But listen, this isn't a done deal, ok? I'm going to take you home and talk to your mother about it tomorrow, but you'll still need to stay with her until we reach a decision one way or the other."

"But I thought we could just stay here now," Pamela said.

"It doesn't work like that honey."

"Ok," Peter said. "You talk to Mom and she says no. What happens then?"

"Well...if you're both still adamant that you want to come here...I guess I'd have to file papers with the court and have a hearing fixed for a judge to decide. But I don't want either of you to worry about that just now, ok? Let's take it one step at a time." He sat back and surveyed them both, hating how unhappy and vulnerable they looked and hating himself even more for all the years he hadn't really been in their lives. "So, do you want waffles or pancakes for breakfast?"

"Is Evelyn coming back?" Pamela asked quietly.

"Yes she is," he replied, his heart aching. "Once she sorts her mail and gets some clean clothes, she'll be back."

XXXX

"Looks like they're doing construction at the end of your street. Ok if I drop you here?"

"Sorry, what?" Evelyn looked up from where she had been staring at the floor of the cab and realised that they had reached her block.

"I said, it looks like they're doing construction at the end of your street," the driver repeated impatiently. "Is it ok if I just drop you here?"

"Oh...uh...yes, sure." She scrabbled in her purse for money and passed it to him. "Thanks." Opening the door, she stepped out onto the sidewalk and watched as he did a U-turn and headed back towards the main thoroughfare before turning in the direction of her building. Almost immediately, she felt a wave of panic wash over her as she realised that she was standing in almost exactly the same place where it had happened. Rooted to the spot, her eyes darted between the entrance to her building and the wall that she remembered sliding against down onto the ground. It was incredible how you could remember such precise details, especially in moments of high stress, and as she stared at the concrete, she almost imagined that she could see traces of blood.

"You're all right," she whispered to herself. "You're fine. Just keep going and you'll be home..."

" _Oh God no...please...! Please don't...please, my baby, please not my baby...!"_

As she put one foot in front of the other, she could hear the shadows of her own cries echoing inside her head, just as she could see Ben on the ground beside her and the man, whoever he was, pointing the gun at her.

 _"Please not my baby!"_

"It's just a memory...only a memory..."

 _"Please not my baby!"_

The screaming seemed louder and she started to run as best she could. Though in reality it wasn't far, it felt as though there were a hundred miles between her and the safety of the lobby. Her heart pounded in her chest, her abdomen screamed in pain, but she kept going all the way along the street and up the stairs to the locked security door. Gasping for breath, she fumbled in her pocket for her keys, dropping them down onto the ground in the process. Crying out with pain, she reached to retrieve them, thrust the correct key into the lock and swung the door open before half falling inside, dropping to her knees and slamming the door shut behind her.

Her body protested strongly, her wound stinging painfully and when she lifted her sweater, there was a faint oozing of blood from the incision. She remained on the ground until her breathing returned to normal, hoping that nobody would come in or out of the building and wonder what the hell she was doing on the floor. Once she felt more in control, she pulled herself to her feet and slowly made her up way up the stairs.

When she got inside, and lifted the mail, the first thing she noticed was that the answering machine was blinking and when she pressed the playback button, it told her in a monotone voice that she had twelve messages. The vast majority were sales calls and a few hang ups, but there were two that caught her attention.

 _"Evelyn, it's Sarah...I...I'm sorry about yesterday. I know you're probably with Ben and I don't know his number, but I figured that you'd hopefully be checking your messages before the weekend so...maybe we could meet...to talk...before I fly home on Monday? Give me a call at the hotel when you can. Love you. Bye."_

In a way, she was glad her cousin had made the first move, given it meant she didn't have to, and it probably would be good to have a frank talk with her, even if the events of Thanksgiving had never happened. She made a mental note to call back and see if Sarah was free the following evening while Ben was taking the kids back to Hartford.

Then the last message played.

 _"It's me...I...I don't know what to say...I never wanted...I never wanted this. I never wanted you to be hurt like that, I...you have to believe me, Evelyn, they're crazy. I just...I know you don't want to hear this and you probably don't even believe me, but I had nothing to do with it. I'm in deep shit and...I don't even know why I'm calling you. You might as well just call the cops and have me arrested again. I'm sorry."_

Edward's voice stopped as quickly as it had started and the click of the machine indicated that there were no more messages. For what seemed like hours, but in reality was mere minutes, she stood in the centre of the room listening only to the sound of her own breathing, her body shivering. Then, moving back to the machine, she replayed the message again.

 _"It's me...I...I don't know what to say...I never wanted...I never wanted this. I never wanted you to be hurt like that, I...you have to believe me, Evelyn, they're crazy. I just...I know you don't want to hear this and you probably don't even believe me, but I had nothing to do with it. I'm in deep shit and...I don't even know why I'm calling you. You might as well just call the cops and have me arrested again. I'm sorry."_

"They're crazy..." she whispered to herself as it clicked off once again. Who was he talking about? The Lucchese family? Had it been them behind it? If so, why, especially if he claimed he had nothing to do with it? Instinctively, she reached for the phone to call Ben, then stopped. He would most likely still be talking to the kids and whatever was going on for them right now had to be more important than this.

Her wound demanded her attention so she headed for the kitchen, wetted a paper towel and dabbed at the oozing until it stopped. Then she leaned against the counter, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondered what to do. "Just be normal," she told herself. "Everything is fine...you're safe...it's all fine..." Once she felt calmer, she moved back over to the phone, called Sarah's hotel and was put straight through to the room.

"Hello?"

"Sarah, it's me," she said, keeping her voice as light as possible.

"Oh thank goodness you got my message!" Sarah exclaimed. "I was afraid you wouldn't. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she lied, eager to cut to the chase. "Do you want to meet up?"

"Yes, of course. When?"

"Tomorrow evening? Ben's driving the kids back to Hartford."

"That sounds great. Dinner, around seven?"

"Sure, where do you fancy?"

"You pick. I wouldn't know where to start."

Evelyn paused, her knowledge of decent New York restaurants apparently lacking. "What about _Fornellis?_ "

"Is that still there? I haven't been there in years! That sounds great, will I make a reservation?"

"Perfect."

"Great, see you there!"

Evelyn slowly replaced the receiver and then paused again, staring at the phone. Should she call him? What would she say to him? _Do you know who tried to kill me? Do you know who killed my baby?_ The very thought alone made her start to shiver again and she started moving around the apartment, picking up bits and pieces, moving the mail from one counter to another before realising that, in reality, she was doing absolutely nothing productive. She stopped again and checked her watch to see the hands slipping just past ten o'clock. How long should she wait before going back?

The phone rang suddenly, startling her, and she stared at it for a full ten seconds before slowly moving over and lifting the receiver, part of her hoping it was Edward and part of her praying it was Ben. It turned out to be neither.

"Evelyn? Are you coming back?"

She smiled, despite everything, at the sound of Pamela's voice, small and fragile across the line. "Yes, I'm coming back."

XXXX

The mood at Ben's apartment was sombre and though part of her felt like simply curling up in ball with a duvet over her head, she tried to lighten the atmosphere by suggesting that they perhaps catch a movie that afternoon. The suggestion went down well and, if she was being honest, it would be an opportunity for her to sit in a darkened room with her own thoughts. Despite Peter's protestations that he wanted to see _Demolition Man_ , in the end _Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey_ won out as technically being more 'family friendly' and as the lights dimmed in the theatre and the trailers started, Evelyn allowed her mind to wander back to Edward's message.

Maybe she _should_ call him. After all, what harm could it do? Yes, he would technically be in violation of his bail and yes, she had no authority to waive that, but who would ever need to know? It wasn't as if she would be talking about a phone call on the stand and perhaps he might even know something that could lead to identifying whoever it was that had shot her. That investigation appeared to have stalled completely and she knew that the DA's office was more focused on the following week's trial.

Pamela suddenly took hold of her hand, causing her to start, and leaned into her. "I hope it's not too sad. I love dogs."

"I do too," she replied, squeezing her hand supportively and suddenly wishing she had perhaps researched the film a little better. For a while, she was taken in by the plot, namely two dogs and a cat left behind when their family goes on vacation and the pets' perilous journey to find them. Then her mind started to wander again.

Maybe it would better to meet her husband face to face. At least that way, she would be able to judge better what he might tell her. Maybe she could even persuade him to offer a plea that Jack might find acceptable and save everybody the stress of the trial. _But what if he hurts you? What if he puts you up against a wall again? What if this whole show of contrition is just a bunch of crap?_ But how would she ever know, unless she gave him the chance? She glanced down the row to where Ben was sitting next to Peter. He would never let her do it, never understand why she might want to do it and who could blame him? It had been his baby too.

Pamela squeezed her hand again and she was drawn back into the film as it seemed as though one of the dogs might not make it. Somewhat ridiculously, she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. _Jesus, Evelyn. After everything you've been through recently you're going to cry over a fictional dog?_ Thankfully, for all concerned, the dog _did_ make it, but when the lights eventually went up, Pamela cheeks were streaked with tears and Peter was rubbing his eye furiously whilst complaining that he had something in it.

"I still think _Demolition Man_ would have been better," he said, as they made their way out of the theatre. "You girls wouldn't have cried over Stallone."

"Shut up Peter," Pamela said. "You were crying too."

"I was not."

"Yes you were!"

"I was _not!_ You shut up!"

As they bickered good-naturedly, Ben fell into step beside her and slid his arm around her waist. "He _was_ crying," he whispered so as Peter wouldn't hear. "I've seen him cry more in the last twelve hours than I have in the last two years."

"Maybe that's not a bad thing," she replied, keeping her voice low. "Maybe he finally feels comfortable showing us his true emotions."

"I hope so," Ben sighed. "And I hope that he doesn't revert back once I take him home tomorrow. If I were a betting man I would say that they won't be coming to stay with me any time soon."

"You don't know that," she said. "It might be exactly what Laura wants, only she's too afraid to say so."

"You don't believe that any more than I do. No, I reckon I'm going to have to take it to court and I really don't want to have to do that." He sighed. "I never thought we'd be here."

"No," she agreed, her mind flitting back to her own problems. "Me neither."

XXXX

"Dad, do you like being a lawyer?"

Ben turned from where he had been locking the door to see Peter sat, cross-legged on the couch, watching him thoughtfully. It was late and Pamela and Evelyn had already gone to bed. "I guess so, why do you ask?"

Peter shrugged, "Just wondered. You have to work a lot, huh?"

"Yeah, though I guess it depends on what area you work in."

"How do you mean?"

"Well..." he sat down next to him. "I have to do a lot of hours at the office because the nature of the job I do isn't technically nine to five. But if I worked in a different area, it would be."

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know...buying and selling houses maybe?"

Peter made a face, "That sounds really boring though."

"Yes," he laughed, "I guess it does."

"Do you ever wish you had done anything else?"

"Well, if I'd been half as good at baseball as you appear to be, then I would have jumped at the chance to play professionally. But, no scouts from Stanford ever approached _me_ at a game."

Peter blushed, "He just wanted to talk, that's all."

Ben paused, realising that this was the first in-depth conversation he had had with his son in years and not wanting to spoil it. "Stanford's a really good school. If you got a sports scholarship there, you could do anything you wanted."

"I guess."

"Do you have any idea what you might want to do, besides playing baseball?"

Peter picked at the corner of the sofa cushion. "Being a lawyer might be fun," he replied nonchalantly. "But not buying and selling houses." He paused. "Do you ever get scared?"

"Of what?"

"Well, you must meet a lot of crazy people and they must hate you."

"I'd like to think that not _all_ of them hate me," Ben replied, trying to keep it light. "But I guess a lot of them see me as the enemy because I'm trying to put them in jail and they don't want to go there. But I've never been scared by any of them."

"What about Evelyn?"

"Well, she's worked in both prosecution and defence so she probably has a different take on it all. She has to deal with people when they're upset and angry and often unreasonable. In many ways, her job is harder is mine and, even though she's meant to be working _for_ the person, she'll take a lot of heat from them."

"I don't think I could do it," he said, "defend people that were guilty."

"Everyone is entitled to a defence."

"Even her husband?"

Ben paused, slightly concerned over where the conversation was heading. "Yes, even him," he replied carefully. "But you don't need to worry about..."

"Is he going to go to jail?" Peter looked at him.

"I hope so. If he gets found guilty of the things that he's been accused of then he certainly will."

Peter paused. "He really hurt her, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did, but he's not ever going to hurt her again," Ben said, hoping that he sounded convincing.

"I think I'd want to prosecute," Peter said, somewhat decisively. "Maybe if we come and stay with you, I could come to court with you some time and watch."

A thousand emotions flooded him at the thought that Peter might actually want to spend time with him, watching him work, taking an interest in the law. In some ways, it felt as though the last twenty four hours had been some sort of fantasy that was going to evaporate at any moment leaving only the bitter resentment that he felt he had always known. "I'd really like that," he replied, coughing slightly to cover the emotion in his voice.

"It would have to be something good though," Peter said. "Not a boring crime."

Ben leaned over and kissed the top of his head, "Oh I'm sure we could find you something interesting enough. But it's late, so you'd better get some sleep."

Peter flopped down onto the cushions and pulled the blankets up over himself. "You really do need a new couch, Dad."

"I know," Ben replied, "and I'll get right on it for you." He clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into semi-darkness, lit only by the lights from outside. "Good night."

"Night Dad."

When he slid into bed beside Evelyn and pressed himself up against her back, he felt her start slightly and half turn towards him. "Everything ok?" she asked, her voice fuzzy with sleep.

"Everything's fine," he replied, kissing the back of her neck gently and breathing her in. "Everything's absolutely fine."


	9. Chapter 9

**Enjoy and please review if you can! Thanks to all my loyal readers!**

"I'm so glad we got to do this," Sarah said, as she and Evelyn slid into their seats at _Forellis_. "I was worried that I'd be all the way back in London and we wouldn't have had a chance to talk." The waiter handed them their menus and she instantly put hers to one side. "I feel as though I owe you an apology."

"Really? What for?" Evelyn replied innocently, pleased that at least she hadn't needed to force the issue.

"I don't like fighting with you and I guess some of the things I said on Thanksgiving were uncalled for. I have no idea what it was like for you being married to Edward and...I guess it's not for me to say that you shouldn't have stayed with him as long as you did. I _am_ sorry."

Evelyn sighed, "Thank you. You think I don't wonder the same thing almost every day though? If it had been anybody else, other than myself, I probably would think the way that you do."

"It's just..." Sarah paused. "If it was as bad as you say..."

"If?"

"I don't mean that, I..." she fought for words. "See, I'm completely shit at this. All I mean is...you've always struck me as a strong woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. You've been successful professionally, you're beautiful...I guess I just don't get why someone with all of those qualities wouldn't have told Edward to shove it years ago."

Evelyn looked down at the table top. "The first time that he hit me was...probably about six months after we got married. I don't even remember why or what I had done, but he said sorry and promised it wouldn't happen again and... I believed him. Then, the next time it happened he said he was sorry and it wouldn't happen again and I still believed him. I'm not sure when I stopped believing him." She paused. "Maybe it was around the same time he stopped saying sorry."

"Why couldn't you have said something to your parents?"

"They had just paid for an expensive wedding and...they loved Eddie. He'd charmed them the same way he'd charmed me. I guess I didn't want to be the one to ruin the fantasy."

"You could have talked to me."

"And what would you have done, Sarah?" she lifted her gaze. "You live over three thousand miles away."

"Well I would have, I don't know, encouraged you to leave!"

"Would you? Or would you have told me to stick it out? That I had a good life, a good career...that it wasn't all bad? Those were the kind of things he used to say to me when we argued. That I was lucky to have him, lucky to live in such a beautiful apartment, lucky to have nice clothes and be taken to nice restaurants and on nice vacations...I started to think that he was right. That I owed everything to him, even my career. That I was being selfish for complaining about a slap here and there or...or having to give him sex when I really didn't want to. People talk about rape as if it only happens down a dark alley with a stranger. It doesn't. It happens in your own bedroom with your own husband. Oh sure, sometimes he holds you down but most often than not he just...persuades you." She stopped and took a breath.

Sarah didn't say anything for a long moment. "I'd like to think that if you had told me that sort of thing was going on, that I wouldn't have been so callous as to tell you to stay." The waiter reappeared at that point with water for the table and when he asked if they were ready to order, she waved him away. "I suppose I convinced myself that the changes I saw in you, heard in your voice...that they were normal. I had a feeling something wasn't right, I even said as much to my mother but...she said everything was fine."

"No doubt because that's what _my_ mother told her," Evelyn replied bitterly. "It's not you that I really harbour any ill feeling towards, Sarah. If I'm being honest with myself...it's her. And maybe that isn't even fair. Maybe I have no right to think that way."

"Do you think she knew?"

"If not for sure then she must have suspected something. But it was just never mentioned, never talked about. Not even after Dad died when you might have thought we would grow closer..." she shook her head. "I guess she preferred to convince herself that, if she did notice anything, she was imagining it but...if it was my daughter..." she trailed off, knowing that the likelihood of ever having such a thing was most likely beyond her now.

Sarah sat back in her chair. "Have you ever had a conversation like this with her? Really talked about it all?"

"No."

"Maybe you should."

"Why, so she can tell me I'm imagining it? That she had no idea? That the events of the last few months are the first clue she _ever_ had that our marriage was less than perfect? I've dropped little hints since I left Eddie, said a few things that might have led to some honest communication but she's always managed to sidestep it. After he attacked me at the dinner and I went back to stay with her, I thought she might open up, but she didn't. Then after the shooting..." She broke off. "You saw how she described it over lunch. How _I_ was lucky that a man, any man, would be willing to take on all my _baggage_. Like it was something that I should feel guilty about."

Sarah leaned over again and covered her hand with her own. "I don't know if I said it before, but I am really am so very sorry about the baby."

Tears pricked at the corner of Evelyn's eyes. "Thank you. That means a lot. It's the one thing nobody really ever wants to talk about." The waiter reappeared again and they both hurriedly ordered bowls of pasta. "I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

"There's still time, surely? You and Ben could try again?"

Evelyn shook her head, "Not right now. Besides, what would be the point? I'd probably only lose it one way or another. I'm not exactly getting any younger."

"Have you thought about having counselling?" Sarah asked.

"I've already had some. I started it not long after I joined the DA's office but...I only went a few times."

"Why?" Evelyn shrugged, not keen to divulge the incident on the street with the gun. "Maybe you should go back. Maybe you could even take your mom with you."

"Oh, I'm sure she'd _love_ that!"

Sarah smiled sympathetically. "You might be able to say things to her in front of a therapist that you couldn't say to her on her own."

"Maybe."

"What does Ben say?"

"He thinks I should go back too. I suggested that _he_ might benefit from talking to someone but he didn't seem very keen on the idea."

"Well that's just men for you. They don't like talking about their emotions. The number of times I've tried to get Nick to open up to me about _anything..._ " she sighed. "Couples therapy might be a good idea though. You've been through the lion's share of it all but, he was attacked too and he _was_ the baby's father."

"I think Ben has enough going on right now." Evelyn quickly filled her in on the situation with Laura and the children, finishing just as the waiter brought their food and necessitating a break for the scattering of parmesan and black pepper.

"Wow..." Sarah said, twirling spaghetti around her fork. "You think his ex-wife is going through something similar to what you did?"

"I think she's possibly in a relationship with someone who's now starting to show themselves as a bit of a bully," Evelyn replied. "And like I said to Ben, I wouldn't want to inflict what I've been through on anyone, especially not Peter and Pamela."

"You care about those kids, don't you?"

Evelyn paused, a slight smile spreading over her face. "Yeah, I do. They're great kids. Pamela seems desperate for approval all the time and Peter...well he was a bit of a brick wall initially, but he seems to be dismantling it. I'm really pleased, for Ben's sake. I know how hard his relationship was with them before."

"But if they come to live with you, you'll be their stepmother," Sarah said. "That's a lot to take on board when you've only been dating a few months."

"It's not as if we'll all be living together."

"No?"

"No, I mean he has his place and I have mine."

"But I thought you were getting married?"

"Uh, if I recall correctly, _you_ made that assumption," Evelyn said, pointing her fork at her cousin.

"You didn't actually dispel me of the notion though," Sarah said. "Has he asked you?"

"As a matter of fact, he has."

"And what did you say?"

Evelyn paused, recalling the conversation they had had right before she had told Ben she was pregnant. When he had said he wanted to marry her. It had never really been mentioned much again in light of everything that had happened and, she suddenly realised, he had never actually properly asked her and she had never actually answered.

"Well...I mean he said he _wanted_ to marry me..."

"But he didn't _actually_ ask you?" Evelyn shook her head. "Ah...so he just _presumed_ that you'd want to marry him."

"I do," she protested.

"Do you?" Sarah looked at her squarely. "Or is that just what you think he wants to hear? What you think you should say?"

"No..."

"Haven't you just left a marriage where you did and said everything your husband wanted you to do and say?"

She felt anger flare inside her at any possible similarity being drawn between Ben and Edward. "What are you trying to say? I thought you liked Ben?"

"I do, God, of course I do. The way he looked at you on Thanksgiving...the way he stood up for you against me... the way he protected you when you needed it..." Sarah shook her head. "I think he comes across as being a lovely guy."

"But?"

"But you've just said that he has a lot of other things going on right now and you've alluded to not living together even if his kids _do_ come and stay with him. I don't mean to be harsh but that doesn't sound like a relationship teetering on the brink of marriage."

Evelyn looked down into her plate. "Well I guess a lot has changed since we had the conversation." For a moment, neither of them said anything, focusing on eating their food. Although she felt defensive about what Sarah was getting at, she couldn't help but feel that there was a small grain of truth in her words, even if it was one that she didn't want to admit existed. "Anyway, we've talked enough about me. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well...how's business?"

"Booming," Sarah replied. "I certainly can't complain, though I think Nick might about the hours I spend at the office. I sometimes feel as though I'm missing out on family life. Half the time I have no idea what the boys are up to."

"They don't give you any trouble though, do they?"

"Oh no, nothing like that. But..." she sighed, "I guess I feel as though I'm missing out on them growing up. Much like how you've described Ben feels about his kids."

"Well, I guess only you can do anything to change that," Evelyn said.

"I know and I was thinking about that..." Sarah paused. "How would you like a job?"

Evelyn paused, her fork halfway to her mouth, unsure if she had heard correctly. "What?"

"A job!" Sarah repeated. "How would you like a job? How would you like to come and work for me?"

"You live in London."

"So? Look..." Sarah put her cutlery down and leaned forwards. "You might not think this, but you have a lot of transferrable skills, Evelyn. You're good with people, you do a lot of writing, reasoning, fact finding...just because you have a law degree doesn't mean you have to be a lawyer for the rest of your life."

"Sarah, you run a marketing company. In England. I'm not sure that..."

"You're not sure what? That I would have a place for you? Of course I would! I need a new creative director...why are you laughing?"

Evelyn waved her hand at the sudden humour of the situation, "I'm sorry but...you can't honestly be serious."

"I'm deadly serious!"

"Sarah, I can't move to London!"

"Why not!"

"Because..."

"Because what?"

"Because I have a job here. I have a life here... and I know absolutely nothing about marketing!"

"So? Neither did I when I started out!"

"Oh, so you're going to sponsor my work visa then, are you?"

"Well, no, I'd have to get someone else at the company to do that but it shouldn't be too difficult..." she leaned forward. "Evelyn...I've been thinking about this since I first heard that you had left Edward. I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for you to make a new life, far away from him. A new country, a new city, new people...I was always going to offer it to you, but I wanted to do it in person and then everything happened to you and..." she paused. "I just want you to think about it."

Evelyn paused. There really was nothing to think about. How could she just up and leave? There was the trial to think about and the divorce, not to mention Ben and the kids...and her mother. She was bound to New York. It was her home. She had never contemplated living anywhere else, least of all London.

It was a ridiculous idea.

"There's nothing to think about. It's kind of you to offer, but you'd be far better looking for someone closer to home."

"Is this is about Ben..."

"Of course it's about Ben! I love him, how could I just up and leave him? He needs me...I need him. We need each other," she spluttered, unsure exactly who she was trying to convince. "He's everything I should have had first time around. I can't just...throw that all away."

"Why, because you feel obligated to him?"

"Why would I feel obligated to him?"

"You've just said that he's everything you should have had first time around. Maybe that's true and maybe you _do_ love him, but that doesn't mean you have to settle for the first glimpse of..."

"I'm not settling!" Evelyn's fork clattered into her dish. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"I think you're possibly in danger of clinging on to the first lift raft that floats by, not that I blame you," Sarah said. "The last fifteen years of your life haven't been what you've wanted them to be. Don't let the next fifteen be the same."

"That's not..." Evelyn fought for words. "That's isn't...it's not what I'm doing. I'm happy here. I'm happy with Ben _and_ the kids and in case you've forgotten, I have a pretty worthwhile job right now too."

Sarah sat back and let out a long breath. "Ok, if that's how you feel..."

"It is."

"If you change your mind..."

"I won't."

"Fine, but at least promise me that you'll come for a vacation sometime. You need to travel a bit, Evelyn, and not just to places that other people want to go to."

"Well, Ben did promise to take me to London, Paris _and_ Rome someday," Evelyn said lightly, lifting her water glass and hoping that they could change the subject.

"Yes," Sarah said, sounding somewhat unconvinced. "I'm sure he did."

XXXX

"Why couldn't Evelyn come with us?" Pamela asked as Ben sped along the freeway towards Hartford.

"Because she's meeting her cousin for dinner," he replied.

"Because Mom and Dad need to talk about us going to live with him, Pam," Peter said from the backseat, "and it would be weird if Evelyn was there too."

"Why?"

"Because it just would be!"

"I don't see why."

"Peter's right," Ben said before war was declared. "It's easier if I talk to your mom on my own."

"So we don't get to be there?" Pamela said.

"No, it would be better if you made yourselves scarce."

"That's not fair."

"No, I suppose it isn't," Ben glanced over at where she sat pouting in the seat beside him. "Sometimes grown ups need to talk about things away from teenage ears."

"But shouldn't we be able to say what we think?"

"We already did, remember?" Peter answered her.

Ben looked at him in the rearview mirror. "What do you mean?" Peter shifted uncomfortably. "Peter?"

"We already said to Mom that we wanted to come and stay with you," he finally replied.

"When was this?"

"The time Mom came to get us after we'd spent the weekend with you. We told her in the car that we wanted to live with you and she said no."

Ben didn't say anything, but a further glance at Pamela's face confirmed that what his son was saying was true. "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Because..."

"Because...?"

"Because we thought you might decide not to go through with it," Peter said. "We thought you might just think there was no point."

"Why would you think that?" Ben asked.

"Because she said that you didn't think there was any point in fighting for custody of us when you and she got divorced, so you didn't bother."

"I see," Ben said, tightly, his irritation with his ex-wife growing by the minute. He had hoped that whatever conversation they were able to have about the kids would have been amicable, but to hear that she had effectively been smearing him to them only served to make him angry.

"Is it true?" Pamela asked quietly.

He paused before answering, determined to be honest with them yet terrified of saying anything that might destroy the fragile unity that had been created over the course of the last few days in particular. "I didn't fight your mother for custody, that's true. I thought you would both be better off with her because I knew that I had to work long hours and it would have been difficult for me to be there for you the way you would have needed me. Not to mention the fact, that your grandparents were able to help your mother in a way that my parents wouldn't have been able to help me. But it was _not_ a case of my simply not bothering, I want you to know that."

"Do you regret it?" Peter asked, his voice loaded with meaning.

"No," Ben said honestly, "because up until now, I think your mother has cared for you both very well and you're a credit to her for that. But I regret the fact that she has made you believe that I didn't care about you, because nothing could be further from the truth. You're my children and that means that you are the most important things in my life."

Silence descended over the car as he took the exit and began driving through residential streets towards Laura's house. He could feel the tension from both of them and silently cursed Laura, and indeed himself, for having played parts in bringing it to this. Laura's street was quiet, the house nestled at the end of a cul-de-sac. The kind of place where kids should grow up. Where people said hello to each other as they went about their business, neighbours were invited to barbeques and people washed their cars on Sunday mornings. Peter and Pamela had lived there for ten years, never really knowing anything different. Moving permanently to the city would be a huge culture shock, if nothing else.

As he swung the car into the driveway, the front door opened and Laura appeared, silhouetted by the light from inside. He cut the engine and the children got out painfully slowly, lifting their bags from the trunk, kissing him quickly and then moving into the house past their mother and out of sight.

"Well..." Laura said, folding her arms and regarding him steadily. "Isn't this quite the Sunday evening surprise."

"You knew I was bringing them back," Ben said. "It can't be that much of a surprise."

"I suppose you want to come inside."

"Only if that's all right with you and Mark."

"Mark isn't here. He works on Sunday evenings," Laura replied, "a fact of which I'm sure you're perfectly well aware."

"Well I suppose it makes the conversation easier the less people there are around."

"You didn't bring Evelyn then?"

"No, I didn't."

Laura opened the door wider and allowed him to step inside before closing it behind him. "How is she?"

"She's fine," he replied. "Still in a bit of pain, but she's getting there."

"Good," she waved him into the sitting room. "Well I'm guessing you didn't come all the way up here to discuss the weather."

"No, I didn't."

"So?"

"I've been talking to the kids," he said, keeping his voice as even as possible. "They've been telling me things about what's been going on here between you and Mark, things that have made me concerned, not only for them, but for you." Laura said nothing. "Now, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about and how you choose to live your life, and with whom, is none of my business, but when it starts to impact on our children, it becomes my business." He paused, hoping she might say something, but was met with only dead air. "Peter and Pamela have asked to come and live with me and, given what's going on here at the moment, I think it's what's in their best interests."

Laura still said nothing, choosing merely to stare at him, her arms folded across her chest, her face expressionless.

"Laura..." he said softly, "if there are things going on between you and Mark, things that you know aren't right, then I want to help you."

"By taking my children away from me?" she replied, equally as softly.

"By taking them out of harm's way."

She shook her head, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Laura..."

"You've been spending too much time with Evelyn, letting her fill your head with lurid tales of what went on between her and her husband, letting her fill _my children's_ heads..."

"That's nonsense," he replied. "If anything, we have shut them down any time they have asked anything about the case."

"Oh please! She was shot in the street for Christ's sake! Do you honestly think it's in the kids best interests to be exposed to that?" Laura shook her head. "You're out of line, Ben, _way_ out of line. You had no right threatening to take them away from me before and you sure as hell don't have any right threatening it now. You said weeks ago that you were going to take me to court over custody and you didn't. Why was that, I wonder?" She stepped forward. "Could it have been because you suddenly found yourself about to have a new family? Evelyn announces that she's pregnant with your child and, all of sudden, our kids don't matter!"

"That is _not_ true..!"

"But now that she's lost the baby, Peter and Pamela are fair game again!"

"How can you...?"

"Dad?"

Ben spun around to see Peter standing at the living room door, his expression a clear indication that he had heard everything, and felt his heart sink.

"Was Evelyn pregnant?"

He let out a long breath, wishing with all his heart that he could lie and say that Laura was mistaken. If they had needed to know, it certainly hadn't been through finding out like this. "Yes, Peter, she was...but she isn't now..." before he could finish his sentence, Peter turned on his heel and fled, the sound of heavy treads indicating that he had run upstairs. When he turned back around to face his ex-wife, he could see a trace of triumph. "You knew he was standing there."

Laura shrugged, "I didn't realise it was a state secret."

"We agreed that it was better not to tell them!"

"Well that was before you came in here questioning my parenting and threatening to take my kids away from me," she stepped forward. "I think you should go now, Ben. I doubt Peter and Pamela are going to be that interested in living with you now they know you were planning a second family behind their back."

Ben stared at her, almost unable to believe that it had all come to this. "What the hell has happened to you, Laura?" he asked. "When did you become such a...manipulative bitch?" She blinked, but said nothing. "You and Mark are welcome to each other, but this isn't over." He turned and made for the door, throwing it open and storming down the drive back to the car.

"Don't come back, Ben," she called after him. "You're not welcome here."

As he opened the car door, he looked up to see two faces at the window above the garage. He lifted his hand, but they quickly disappeared from view.

"Damn you Laura," he muttered, getting inside, turning on the engine and backing quickly out of the drive. "Damn you to hell."


	10. Chapter 10

**Didn't expect to write this so quickly! Enjoy!**

When he got back to the apartment, Ben found himself irked that Evelyn wasn't there waiting for him. The two hour drive back from Hartford had done nothing to calm his temper and he wanted to discuss the events of the evening with her. Finding the apartment dark and cold was not ideal. Moving around, switching on lights and uselessly lifting things and placing them somewhere else, also didn't help and, suddenly wondering if she had decided to go back to her own apartment, he lifted the phone and dialled her number. Her machine picked up, but he put the phone down again without leaving a message.

Unsure what to do, he flicked the television on and started making a pot of coffee. As the scent filled the air, he took a deep breath and tried to relax, but he couldn't get the image of Peter's face out of his head. He had looked so hurt, and Ben wasn't sure if it was because he had discovered he had been going to have a sibling and hadn't been told, or whether it was the fact he had been going to have a sibling at all that had clearly caused him the most upset.

As he was pondering this, and what he was going to say to his son next time he saw him, the apartment door suddenly opened and, making his way from the kitchen to the living room, he saw Evelyn close the door and turn to hang her coat on the rack. "Where have you been?"

She turned to him, clearly surprised at his question. "I was out with Sarah."

"I know that, but I just thought you would have been home before now."

"We had dinner and then went for coffee..." she trailed off at the look on his face. "I'm guessing it didn't go well then?"

"You guess right," he replied shortly, "and it might have been nice for you to have been here when I got back."

"I didn't realise I had a curfew," she replied, her voice tight. "How was I supposed to know when you would be back? You might have still been there. So, what happened?"

"Oh, well there's nothing going on between her and Mark that need concern me, you and I have clearly been filling the kids heads with talk about Edward and, in any event, they won't want to come and live with me now that they know you were pregnant."

Evelyn stared at him. "How did they...?"

"What, find out? Well Laura only blurted it out when she knew Peter was standing right behind me, didn't she?" He turned back into the kitchen and started slamming cups down onto the counter. "Just when I thought our relationship had taken a turn for the better she had to go and stick the knife in."

"How did Peter react?"

"How do you think he reacted?" Ben snapped. "He looked at me as though his whole world was ending then took to his heels and ran!"

"You don't have to shout at me," Evelyn said quietly.

"Well I don't have anyone else to shout at, do I?!" He slammed the cupboard door, causing her to jump, and instantly felt remorse. "I'm sorry..." he sighed heavily. "None of this is your fault and I shouldn't be taking it out on you." Moving to her, he slid his arms around her and pulled her close, ignoring the way she stiffened at first before relaxing in his embrace. "I've just...spent the whole car journey home going over and over it in my head. Things just seemed to be falling into place and now this..."

"So, what are you going to do?" she asked, her voice muffled against his chest.

"The only thing I _can_ do," he replied. "I'm going to have to file papers applying for custody and ask for an emergency hearing."

"Are you sure that's wise? Maybe Laura's right and the kids will have changed their mind."

"So I just leave them in a potentially dangerous situation?" he pulled back from her. "You were the one who pushed me on this!"

"I know...but after what happened tonight...?"

"Peter's angry, I can understand that. But it doesn't change the fact that something is going on in that house and it's not right that my children should be in the middle of it." Ben shook his head. "I'll go into the office in the morning, get the damn thing typed up and then drive back up to Hartford and lodge it with the county court there. Maybe, if I ask nicely, I can get a hearing within the week." Evelyn didn't say anything. "I'm sorry, but...I don't think we should go away anywhere this week. I feel as though I need to be here."

"Of course," she said. "I wasn't expecting..."

"I mean, I am their father..." he continued, moving away from her over to the couch. "I _could_ just go and pick them up from school tomorrow and bring them here."

"I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Why not? There's no court order in place just now and I'd be well within my rights."

"Yes, but then Laura's going to call the police and it's not going to look good for your application if her lawyer can stand up in court and say that you kidnapped them."

"It wouldn't be kidnapping, I'm their father!" he said, unable to believe that she couldn't see the truth in what he was saying. "I've as much right to have them as she does!"

"So what are you going to do, drag them into your car kicking and screaming?" She sat down beside him. "You need to go about this through the proper channels. Who are you going to hire anyway?"

"I'm not going to hire anyone." She blinked. "I can handle it on my own."

"But when was the last time you practiced family law?"

He paused, "Never, but..."

"I bet you haven't even looked at a statue since you were in law school."

"Oh, and you have I suppose?"

"No, so if it were my kids, I would be hiring whoever I knew could do the best job for me. It's not as if we don't know people."

"Yeah, well they're not your kids are they?" he replied pettily. "I'm more than capable of putting together an application for custody and representing myself at a hearing. I'm a member of the New York state bar and an Executive Assistant District Attorney. That has to count for something."

"Fine," she said, getting to her feet. "You've obviously made up your mind about it all so there's little point in me saying anything else, is there?"

Instantly, he felt bad again and got to his feet, "Evelyn..." but she moved past him and went into the bathroom, closing the door purposefully behind her. "Damn it," he swore softly to himself and went back into the kitchen to finish making the coffee. There were two cupcakes sitting in a container on the shelf, left over from the previous day, so he plated them and then carried everything through to the table. A few minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom again. "Peace offering," he said ruefully, gesturing to the table, "not to mention another apology."

"It's fine," she said, sitting down and sliding one of the cups over to herself. "It's not like I'm not used to it."

He felt her words pierce him and he was about to say that the conversation they had just had could not be considered _anything_ akin to what she had gone through with Edward, but suddenly thought better of it and focused on his own coffee instead. For a few moments, there was a tense silence. "I never asked you how you got on with Sarah," he said finally.

"It was good," Evelyn replied, biting into one of the cupcakes. "We talked about a lot of things and she apologised so I feel better about it."

"When does she fly home?"

"Tomorrow night. She left me with a lot of things to think about."

"Like what?"

Evelyn paused. "Like going back to therapy...maybe asking my mother to go with me, that kind of thing."

"I've been telling you to go back to therapy for weeks," he said. "Do you think your mom would go?"

She shrugged, "Hard to tell. I was thinking I might give her a call tomorrow, not about therapy but just in general."

"I guess it can't hurt."

"Guess not." She licked the last of the cupcake icing from her fingers and drained her cup. "I think I'll go to bed if you don't mind. It's been a long day."

"Sure," he replied. "I'll be there in a minute."

She got to her feet and crossed the room towards the bedroom before stopping and turning back. "I was thinking...maybe I should go back to my own place tomorrow."

He looked at her, surprised, "Why?"

"Well...I'm pretty much able to take care of myself and, well if the kids are going to be coming here, you'll need the space."

"True..." he mused. "We might have to think about getting a bigger apartment." She didn't say anything. "I don't want you to go, though. I like you being here. After all this time, the place wouldn't feel the same without you. Bathroom would be a lot tidier but aside from that..." she smiled and shook her head before turning and heading into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

He pottered around for a while, cleaning up the dishes, wiping down the kitchen, rearranging the cushions on the couch and generally returning the place back to a teenage-free environment. As he did so, however, he couldn't help thinking that he wouldn't care if Peter and Pamela had the place looking like a pig sty as long as they were happy and safe. By the time he went into the bedroom, Evelyn was in bed, the covers pulled around her, her eyes hazy with impending sleep. He undressed quickly and slid in beside her, moving close to her and gently kissing her. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I've been an asshole tonight, I know I have. It's just..."

"It's ok," she said softly. "I understand."

"I don't want you to go."

"Then I won't. Not if you need me."

He kissed her again, then again and again, trailing his mouth down her chin, her throat, her neck, her collarbone and then lower, pulling open the buttons on her nightshirt and caressing each of her breasts in turn. Then lower again, down her ribcage and stomach to her thighs, feeling her shudder underneath him and hearing her moan softly above him. Her body jerked as his tongue found and worked her until she was on the brink and thrashing against him as he moved back up to take advantage of her pleasure. As he pulled her legs around his waist and sank inside her, he couldn't help but think that needing her didn't even begin to scratch the surface.

XXXX

"Monday?"

The reality of what he was saying slowly started to sink in.

Ben nodded, his expression pained. "I'm sorry, it was the earliest hearing they could give me. I wanted something this week but they said the calendar was full. I know it's not ideal, for either of us, but...I had to take it."

"Of course," Evelyn said, quickly recovering herself. "Of course you did. I wouldn't have expected you not to. I guess I was just...hoping that you would be there, that's all."

He stepped forward and took her in his arms, "And I wanted to be there, of course I did. If there was any other way around it..." he paused. "The hearing's at noon. Maybe I could come with you for the first hour or so and then go up..."

"No," she shook her head. "No, that's a silly idea. You need to be up there in plenty of time and there could be traffic or an accident or...anything and you can't miss it." She pulled back and met his gaze. "I'll be fine, Ben, really I will."

He tucked her hair behind her ear. "I know you will and you'll have Jack and Claire...did you talk to your mom?"

"Uh no, not yet," Evelyn stepped back. "I called her earlier but I only got her machine. I was going to try again later this evening."

"Good. It's important that she's there for you," Ben said. "She is your mother after all."

He moved into the kitchen and Evelyn sat down on the couch, the full impact of the situation hitting her. Ben had spent the morning at the office preparing his custody application and had then driven up to Hartford to lodge it and request a hearing. She had never imagined, for one minute, that it might conflict with the first day of Edward's trial, or that he might not be able to be in the courtroom with her while she gave evidence. But Peter and Pamela had to come first, she knew that. She was a grown woman after all, able to take care of herself.

"I take it nobody called while I was out," he said, coming back into the living room.

"No," she replied. "Well, not while I was here anyway and there were no messages. Were you expecting someone?"

He made a face, "I guess I'd hoped that the kids might call but...maybe that's just wishful thinking. Anyway, Laura should get notification of the hearing tomorrow so they should find out pretty soon that I'm at least trying to keep my word."

"You just need to give them some time."

"I know...but it's not easy sometimes." The phone rang suddenly and he dived for it. "Hello? Oh, hello Susan." Evelyn got to her feet, feeling her heart rising into her mouth. "Yes, she's here, hold on." He held out the receiver to her.

"Hi Mom," she said, trying to keep her voice as level as possible.

"Hello yourself," Susan replied, "You called me earlier?"

"Yes, I did..." she wandered over towards the window, her heart hammering in her chest. It was so ridiculous, feeling stressed about talking to her own mother and yet, she couldn't help it. "I'm sorry that I missed you."

"I was having lunch with Patricia. She's very upset about Sarah and the family going home today."

"Oh...well she must have always known they were only staying a short while."

"Yes, of course she did but it's obviously hard for her, having her daughter so far away." Susan paused. "So, was there something in particular you wanted to talk to me about?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Evelyn saw Ben make his way into the bedroom and close the door, tactfully giving her privacy to talk. "Oh...well I just wondered how you were."

"I'm fine. You?"

"Fine." Evelyn paused and decided to just take the hit. "Actually I wanted to apologise for what happened at Thanksgiving last week. I was a little upset and some of the things I said weren't perhaps the things I should have said."

"No, they weren't," Susan replied. "But I suppose you're not the only one at fault. I could have chosen my own words better. I certainly didn't mean to imply that I consider what you went through with Edward to be trivial...or that any of it was your fault." She paused. "I'm sorry for that and...and for many things, I suppose."

Evelyn felt a lump form in her throat. "Many things?"

Susan coughed. "I'm not saying that I was the perfect mother, Evelyn. I liked Edward and you always seemed to be having a good time..." she paused again. "Obviously I know _now_ that the reality of your life was very different."

"You know now..." Evelyn repeated, sagging a little, her dream of her mother finally admitting her wilful blindness starting to shatter.

"Well, yes... I mean, how could I have known at the time? You always seemed...so happy when I saw you and, well, when I didn't see you, I just assumed that you were busy enjoying yourself."

Tears pricked at the corner of Evelyn's eyes and she willed herself to stay calm when, in reality, all she wanted to do was scream at Susan that she _must have know something was wrong!_

"But I suppose there's little point in dwelling on the past, is there?"

"Oh, on the contrary," Evelyn said, taking a breath. "I wanted to ask you if you would do a couple of things for me, Mom."

"Such as?" Susan asked suspiciously.

"I'm...thinking about going back to therapy. I had some before the...the shooting and I think it might be beneficial for me to have some more, you know, to help process everything and...well...I was hoping you might consider coming with me."

"Well, I...I don't really see what _my_ being there would do to help you get over everything. I mean, surely I would just be sitting there listening to you talk."

"You might find that you have something to contribute," Evelyn pressed. "Maybe it might help...improve our relationship now and...and stop incidents like Thanksgiving happening again."

Susan sighed, "Well I've never really been one to extol the virtues of therapy, but if you think it would do _you_ some good to have me there then I don't see the harm in coming at least once. You'll organise it and let me know the date? Only, not a Wednesday if possible as you know I have my book club that day."

"I'll try and avoid Wednesdays."

"What was the other thing you wanted me to do?"

Evelyn took a breath before speaking. "I was hoping that you would come to court with me next week." There was a long silence at the other end of the phone and, for a moment, she thought the connection had been lost. "Mom, are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here," Susan said. "I'm sorry, Evelyn, but I can't."

"Oh...you have something else on?"

"No..." Susan sighed. "I can't sit there and listen to you tell everyone about Edward and what he did to you. No mother should have to listen to her own daughter give evidence in court about anything let alone...that. It wouldn't do either you or me any good for me to be there."

Anger and hurt coursed through her as, once again, Susan demonstrated that she was thinking only of herself. "I appreciate that it would be difficult for you, Mom, but I could use your support. It's not going to be easy for me."

"I understand that, but you don't need my support, Evelyn. You'll have Ben there. He's all the support you possibly could need or want. I'm sorry," she said decisively. "I have no issue in coming to therapy with you if that's what you want, but please don't ask me to sit and listen to a litany of horrors because I just can't."

"How did it go?" Ben asked a few minutes later when she came into the bedroom.

"Oh...fine," she said, sitting down on the bed beside him. "She said that she would come to therapy with me, at least once. I'm not sure what she'll make of it but at least she's willing to make the effort."

"That's good, and she'll be at court for you next week?"

"Yes," Evelyn lied, biting the inside of her cheek as she spoke in an effort to curb the anger and tears that were threatening to break through, the emotions she had managed to conceal from her mother as they had said their goodbyes and ended the call. "Yes, she'll be there."

"So, it was a call worth making then," he rationalised, leaning over and kissing her gently.

"Yeah," she agreed, kissing him back. "Something like that."


	11. Chapter 11

**Have a great weekend everyone! Enjoy :)**

"...but isn't it in fact true, Mrs Burns, that you left your husband earlier this year?"

"Yes, I did."

"And isn't it also true that you would do almost anything in your power to make your divorce as difficult and acrimonious as possible?"

"No, that's _not_ true..."

"Well if your husband was in jail, convicted of assaulting and raping you, you would have a greater claim on the family finances, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not a divorce attorney..."

"You're saying it _never_ crossed your mind that you might gain financially from concocting this pack of lies?"

"Of course it didn't..."

"So you're telling the truth to this court then?"

"Yes, I am."

"Your husband beat and raped you for the best part of fifteen years, is that what you want this jury to believe?"

"It's the truth!"

"And yet you're very hazy on the details, Mrs Burns. You talk about events that allegedly happened but you can't remember exact dates or locations."

"I..."

"Why is that, Mrs Burns? Is it because you can't remember which lie you've told?"

"No..."

"There's just so many lies, aren't there Mrs Burns? It must be hard to keep them all straight in your head!"

"Objection!"

Ben paused and looked over his glasses. "You're a witness, Evelyn, you don't get to object."

"You're badgering me," she replied, glaring at him.

"Then you need to hope that _Jack_ objects, not you." He looked at her. "Do you want to stop?"

"Yes," she sighed, leaning back in the chair. "We could go over it a hundred times and it still wouldn't make a difference. The truth is, I'm not going to know exactly what I'm going to say until I'm on the stand."

"In cross anyway. You know what you're going to say on direct, right?"

"Yes."

"Then you'll be fine." He tossed his glasses onto the table and rubbed his eyes. "You want to eat out? There's a new Chinese place just off Times Square that everyone in the office has been raving about."

"Sure. I'll just go change." As she wandered into the bedroom, the harshness of the exchange still ringing in her ears, she couldn't help the butterflies twisting and turning in her stomach. In thirty six hours she would be taking the stand against Edward and telling the world everything that had happened between them. Of course, it wasn't the first time that she had been so close to testifying but back then she had had the comforting thought of her baby nestled inside her and the knowledge that Ben would be right there, silently cheering her on.

This time, she had neither.

She knew he had offered to go over the mock cross examination with her more to take his mind off his own problems rather than help alleviate hers. It had been almost a week since he had seen the children and four days since Laura had received notification of the hearing. Every day since, she knew that he had been waiting for the phone to ring or even for Peter and Pamela to suddenly turn up on his doorstep again. Neither had happened and every night when they went to bed, she could feel the weight of his anxiety on top of her own.

Changing out of the sweatpants and t-shirt she had elected to wear on a lazy Saturday into a pair of dark jeans and a sweater, she looked at herself in the mirror and had to marvel at how haggard she had become. There were dark circles under her eyes, magnified by the paleness of her complexion, and she could feel the beginning of an acne outbreak along her jaw line, not to mention a poking through of grey hairs at her scalp. As she reached into her makeup bag, her nail caught on the edge of a compact and split down the middle. "Damn..."she swore, hunting for a file, knowing it was yet but another sign of how run down she felt.

"You look great," Ben complimented her when she finally came out into the living room and she smiled gratefully at him.

"You'd probably tell me I looked great if I came out wearing a binbag," she replied, hunting for her purse. "You're allowed to be honest, you know."

"I _am_ being honest."

"I believe you, twelve honest citizens wouldn't."

"Why do you do that?" he asked, crossing the room towards her.

"Do what?"

"Always put yourself down."

"I don't," she laughed lightly. "In fact, I'm pretty confident in my own abilities. Didn't I just object to your completely out of line question?"

"I'm not talking professionally, I'm talking personally," he said, putting his arms around her waist. "Did he never tell you that you were beautiful?"

"Ben..." she tried unsuccessfully to pull back, discomfited by his question, but he only held her tighter. "I doubt his lawyer is going to ask me that."

" _I'm_ asking you," he regarded her carefully. "Did he never tell you that you were beautiful?"

She paused and thought back. Edward had always been a man of few words when it came to compliments, preferring to demonstrate how he felt physically rather than verbally and not always in the way she would have wanted. "Maybe at the very beginning. Latterly, not so much."

"Then he's a bigger asshole than I ever gave him credit for," Ben said, kissing her lightly, "because you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen."

"Just one of?" she teased. "Who am I competing with?"

"No one," he replied, kissing her again. "There is no-one like you and if we don't get out of here now, I'm going to be taking you to bed as opposed to dinner."

XXXX

The restaurant in question, _The Woo Lan_ , was crowded as could only have been expected on a Saturday night and as they waited in line for a table, Evelyn found herself scanning the other diners and passers-by and wondering, as she often did, what their stories were. It was a habit she had started not long after marrying Edward, when sitting in a coffee shop and watching the world, and its inhabitants go by, had been an escape rather than simply a pleasurable pastime.

The couple sat at a table near the window who barely looked at each other. Was it just habit that brought them out for dinner? Had they been together so long that conversation had just run dry? Had they had an argument and thought eating out would diffuse the tension between them, or were they simply just so comfortable in each other's company that conversation didn't really matter?

The family in front of them. Mom, Dad and two young boys who were clearly hungry and impatient, stamping their feet, whining and desperately trying to pull their parents out of the line. Was coming to the restaurant a last ditch attempt to assuage the kids and stop them running riot at home? Maybe Mom or Dad or both had had a bad day and needed a break from the endless cooking.

The college aged girl standing behind them, on her own, reading a book while she waited. Was she a student at NYU or did she live nearby? Was she going to be meeting someone for dinner or was she happy to eat alone?

Everyone had a story, and Evelyn couldn't sometimes help but wonder if anyone, doing what she was doing, would ever guess hers. It was unlikely. After all, Sarah had said it belonged in a soap rather than real life. Sometimes, she couldn't help but wish that someone would just yell _cut._

A waiter hurried over and motioned to the family of four to follow him which left her and Ben at the head of the line and her stomach grumbled at the delicious smells wafting across the restaurant. Lunch had been a somewhat wilted salad found in Ben's refrigerator and she was looking forward to digging in to some battered prawns and fried rice. Fortunately, they didn't have to wait too much longer and, five minutes later, they were sat at a table perusing the menu.

"I used to take the kids to this little Chinese place a few blocks from the apartment," Ben said. "It was called _Chows_ and it wasn't exactly gourmet Chinese cuisine but they always loved it, especially the fortune cookies you used to get on the way out." He smiled wistfully. "Something else that just fell by the wayside as they got older."

"Well you could always bring them here when they come to stay," she said supportively.

" _If_ they come to stay."

"They will."

They ordered quickly and once the waiter had removed the menus, Ben reached across the table and took her hands in his. "You know, I'm not sure what I did with my weekends before I met you. I must have spent a hell of a lot of time sitting home on my own."

"You must have gone out _sometimes._ "

He shrugged, "Not that often. Most of my friends were married with their own families, a _re_ married with their own families, and the more times you go and sit in the same bar on your own, the more people talk about you."

"Has there really been no-one else?" she asked curiously. "No-one else since Laura?"

"Well...there was this one woman, Stephanie. I met her in that bar funnily enough. It was a jazz bar and she liked jazz music, or so she said. I'd seen her a couple of times when I'd been in before and this one time she came over and talked to me..."

"And?"

"And...she was nice. We had a few things in common, went out for dinner and drinks a few times..." he shrugged again. "I knew it was never going to go anywhere and I don't really think that I wanted it to, but it was nice to have some company for once."

"Did you sleep with her?"

"Maybe," he replied as the waiter brought their first course. "But there's no comparison when it comes to you."

"I'm flattered."

"You should be." For a moment they ate in silence. "Would Edward have brought you to a place like this?"

"No," she replied. "Not if it meant waiting in line to be seated. He preferred a maitre d' to practically have a heart attack when he saw his name on a reservation list and then fall over himself to give us the best service. I suppose it was nice." She looked down into her dumplings. "I feel much more at home here with you though."

"Good thing I cancelled that reservation at the Four Seasons then."

"Absolutely."

For the remainder of the meal they talked about general things, cases recently decided by the Supreme Court, the policies of the new mayor and Clinton signing the Brady bill on firearms so that by the time Ben settled up the bill and they were heading outside, Evelyn had almost forgotten all the other things going on. They were just a regular couple enjoying a Saturday night out.

"Why don't we go up the Empire State Building?" Ben suggested suddenly as the cold evening air hit them. Evelyn stared at him. "What? Consider it as you conquering a fear."

"I'm going into court on Monday morning to face one of my biggest fears," she replied, the memories flooding back as she had known they would. "I really don't think I need to do two in rapid succession."

"Come on," he persisted. "If you do this tonight, then Monday is going to seem like a breeze in comparison."

She paused and checked her watch, "It's almost eight-thirty."

"So, it's open until two am." He took her arm. "You know, deep down, that you want to."

"As much as I'm sure you want to do a harbour cruise."

"I'll make you a promise," he said decisively. "If you do this tonight then, once the trial is over, I'll get on a boat for you."

"I don't know..."

"Well if you won't do it for yourself, do it for me. If you get scared it means I get to hold you and you know how much I enjoy doing that."

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "But if I faint, you have to carry me home."

"Deal," he grinned.

It didn't take long to reach their destination and, given the time of night, the line was fairly short. The whole time that she stood, waiting on the elevator, Evelyn couldn't help but wonder why she was doing it. She hated heights. She had made that very clear to him in the past. So why was she prepared to go up God only knew how many storeys just to keep him happy? Sarah's words suddenly came back to her. _Haven't you just left a marriage where you did and said everything your husband wanted you to do and say?_

 _Because when you love someone, you do things for them,_ she told herself, _and it's not as if he asked you to jump off the building, is it?_

As the first elevator shot them midway up the tower, Evelyn closed her eyes and tried to get herself to relax. Nothing could possibly happen to her. Ben was there...everything would be fine. The line at the second elevator was slightly longer and as they waited, she suddenly realised that she was ever so slightly shaking.

"Are you ok?" Ben whispered.

"Fine," she lied. "I swear to God, though, this better be worth it."

"It will be," he reassured her as they finally stepped inside and travelled the rest of the way up.

Evelyn wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but the blast of icy cold wind when they stepped outside momentarily took her breath away. To all sides she could see the lights of the city, burning brightly in the skyscrapers and as they stepped further out, she was grateful for the high metal barriers preventing even the most determined people from being able to get too close to the edge.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Ben said.

"Sure."

"You don't sound convinced."

"That's because I'm not." She shivered and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him and resting his chin on the top of her head. Even through the thickness of her own coat, and his, she could feel his warmth and, ever so slowly, she started to relax. Around them, people were going over to the barrier, posing for photographs or looking through the telescopes and as she felt her breathing start to slow, she realised that he had been right. Coming up here, facing a long-held fear...it did put things somewhat in perspective. She had been afraid of heights all her life and if she could do this, then there was no way in hell that she couldn't face Edward on Monday morning.

"Will you marry me?"

Ben's words caught her off guard, jolting her from her reverie and she started, twisting to look at him over her shoulder, unsure if she had heard correctly. "What?"

"I said, will you marry me?" he repeated, his mouth close to her ear. "I know I said before that I wanted to marry you, but I didn't actually properly ask you, did I?"

She turned in his arms to look at him, at the sincerity of his expression, the hopeful anticipation and suddenly, she didn't know what to say. "I..."

"I could go down on one knee if you like, but I figured I'd need a ring and it's probably best to wait until you're divorced for that." He pulled her tightly into him, his breath dancing over her face. "In case you missed it somewhere along the line, I love you Evelyn Nicholls and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, be it long or be it short. So...I wanted you to come up here so that I could ask you if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

In the face of it, what other answer could she give? Even if she was unsure, to break the tender moment with her insecurity almost felt somehow sacrilegious, especially in the current setting, and she knew that she loved him and that he loved her. The fact that he had used her maiden name only cemented that for her. What could be more natural than making such a promise to each other?

"Yes," she heard herself say. "Yes, I'll marry you."

XXXX

Sleep came easily to Ben that night. Sated with good food, drunk on the acceptance to his proposal and exhausted by the intense sex that had followed, he was pretty sure he had been asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. So, when the phone by the bed started to ring, he initially thought it was some kind of dream and it had rung a good five or six times before he found the wherewithal to snap on the light and lift the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hello, I'm looking to speak to Benjamin Stone?"

"I'm Ben Stone," he replied, sitting up, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the clock on the bedside table. "Who's this?"

"This is Detective Joe Harvey from the East Hartford Police Department. I'm sorry to disturb you at this time of night, sir, but we have your children here at the precinct and..."

"What?!" Suddenly he was wide awake, his mind racing. "What are they doing there? Are they all right?"

"They're both fine, however there was an incident at 1121 Laurel Drive earlier this evening and I'm afraid that your ex-wife, Laura Williams, and her partner, Mark O'Reilly, have both been taken into custody."

"What the hell happened?!" Ben demanded as Evelyn sat up beside him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"I'd prefer to discuss that with you in person, sir, if you don't mind," Detective Harvey replied. "We tried contacting your ex-wife's parents but apparently they're out of town on vacation. Your son gave us your number and I'm hoping that you'll able to come up here and collect them."

"Uh, yes, of course...of course I will. It'll take me a couple of hours to get there though..."

"That's not a problem. We can make them comfortable until then."

"They're definitely not hurt?" he asked.

"I can assure you, sir, that they're both physically fine. A little upset is all, especially your daughter, but we have a female officer with them right now."

"Ok...ok, thank you. I'll be there as soon as I can." He slammed the receiver down and leapt out of bed.

"What is it?" Evelyn asked, her face ghostlike in the dim light. "What's happened?"

"Laura and Mark have been arrested," he replied, casting around for his clothes. "There's been some sort of 'incident' at home and Peter and Pamela are at the police station."

"Oh my God, are they ok?"

"The officer said so but..." he pulled on his pants and sweater. "I have to go and get them. What time is it?"

"Almost two."

"Ok, so two hours to get there, maybe less if I put my foot down..."

"Ben..."

"I should be there before four." He paused. "I should probably take some things...in case I need to get a hotel."

"You absolutely need to get a hotel," Evelyn insisted, getting out of the bed. "There's no way you can drive up there, deal with the police and then drive back down here with the kids. Remember how you felt the last time."

Reaching into the closet, Ben pulled out a gym bag and started throwing some clothes into it, unsure whether what he was packing was actually appropriate attire, instead thinking only of his children. _What the hell happened?_ his inner voice demanded. _Laura and Mark_ both _arrested? What in God's name has been going on in that house?!_

"Here," Evelyn handed him his wash bag and he stuffed it in alongside everything else before heading out into the living room to retrieve his wallet. "Wait...please..." he stopped and turned back to face her. "I know you want to get there but please, please don't be speeding. You'll do no-one any good if you get pulled over or have an accident..."

"I'll be fine," he said dismissively, knowing that she was only being sensible but unable to see past his children sitting in some interrogation room somewhere. He lifted his keys from the counter. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything."

"Ok...I love you."

"I love you too," he said, the apartment door banging closed behind him before he had finished the full sentiment.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

 **Cynthia, where you live sounds heavenly! And here I am in rainy old Glasgow!**

 **Enjoy!**

Detective Harvey was a small, greying man who looked to be close to retirement with a clear nicotine habit given the smell of smoke that greeted Ben when he crossed the squad room floor to shake his hand. Given how quiet the freeway had been, the journey had taken a little under two hours and the hands of the clock hadn't quite passed four o'clock by the time he got there. He should have been exhausted, but the adrenaline that had been coursing through him ever since the police had called, was keeping him going.

"Mr Stone..." Harvey greeted him. "Thank you for coming."

"Well I wouldn't not have."

"Terrible business. I suppose you'd like me to tell you what happened."

"Yes, I would," Ben replied, "but I'd like to see my children first."

"Oh yes, of course..." he gestured towards a door at the far end of the room. "They're in one of the interrogation rooms with a uniformed officer. I'm sorry that we didn't have anywhere more appropriate to keep them, but they've had soda and candy and they both appear to be fine. I've got four kids myself so I understand how you must feel..." He opened the door to the interrogation room and both childrens' heads snapped up.

"Dad!" Pamela exclaimed, getting to her feet and throwing herself at him. Burying her face in his chest, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and he could instantly feel that she was trembling. "I knew you'd come..."

"Of course I did," Ben replied, returning her hug and then pulling back so that he could stoop slightly and look at her face, to his relief, completely unblemished. "Are you alright?" She nodded mutely, tears streaking down her cheeks. "You sure?"

"Yes."

He looked across the table to where Peter was still sitting, a crushed Coke can in front of him. He looked terrible, hollow eyes staring out of a pale face, and he held out his hand, hoping that Peter would come to him. It took a moment, a terribly long moment where his son simply looked at him, then he got to his feet, slowly walked around the table and buried himself in his arms. "I'm so glad you're both alright," he sighed heavily, wrapping his arms around both of them. "When the police called me, I didn't know what to think."

"I told them to call you," Peter said, pulling back and looking up at him. "Grandma and Grandpa are in Florida..."

"You should have told them to call me first anyway," Ben interrupted him. "I'm your dad."

"Is Evelyn with you?" Pamela asked.

"No," he replied. "No, she's at home, but she sends you all her love."

"What's going to happen?"

"Well, I need to talk to the detective here and then we'll see, ok?"

"Do we need to stay here?" she asked, clinging slightly to him.

Ben felt his heart break at the same time that cold anger swept through him. He knew he would never forgive Laura for this, never. They were far too young to ever have needed this experience. "I just need you both to wait here with this officer while I sort a few things out and then, I promise you, we are going to get out of here, ok?" He kissed the top of her head, nodded to Peter, who nodded back in understanding, and then turned to follow Harvey out of the room. Once the door was closed, he rounded on the detective. "What the hell happened?!"

"Your son called 911," Harvey explained. "It seems that there was an argument between your ex-wife and Mr O'Reilly that got out of hand. There was a lot of screaming and shouting, glass being broken...the poor kids were terrified. When we got there they were both hiding in your son's room and the living room looked like a warzone."

"Is their mother hurt?" Ben asked tightly, though he knew at that moment that he really didn't care.

"She's got a black eye, some cuts and bruises...Mr O'Reilly has similar injuries...she'll probably say she was defending herself against him, but who knows what really happened." Harvey shrugged. "We booked them both for assault but I can't see the DA proceeding against her. O'Reilly's got a rap sheet as long as my arm. Four previous convictions for assault, three of a domestic nature and menacing charges that date back to when he lived up in Massachusetts. Plus some youthful offending from his time in New York."

Ben shook his head, in disbelief that Laura could have been so wilfully blind. Surely she must have known what kind of man she was letting into her life, into her childrens' lives... "Well that's just terrific," he said. "You intend keeping them both in overnight?"

"Until the DA makes a call." Harvey peered at him. "Your son told me that _you're_ an ADA in Manhattan?" Ben nodded. "Then you should know better than me what's likely to happen next. Chances are Ms Williams will be released later this morning without charge and unless O'Reilly says anything that incriminates himself...he'll likely walk too."

"To move right back in no doubt," Ben said tightly. "Well, my ex-wife might be fine with my children living like that but I'm not. I'm taking them with me now and I don't want her knowing where we've gone."

Harvey shrugged, "That's up to you, of course, you're their father. If you wanted to see your ex-wife though...I wouldn't have a problem with it."

"No thanks," Ben replied. "Right now she's the last person I want to see." He turned and headed back into the interrogation room, Peter and Pamela leaping from their seats as he entered. "Come on, we're going."

"To New York?" Pamela asked, coming around the table and sliding her hand into his.

"No, it's a bit early in the morning for that," he replied. "We'll get a hotel somewhere and you pair can get some much needed sleep. Do you have any things with you?"

"The police told us to grab some stuff just in case we couldn't go home," Peter said, gesturing to a couple of bags sat in the corner.

"Fine, it'll do for now," he said. "We can decide later on what else you might need in the short-term." Gently ushering them in front of him, he herded them back through the squad room, shaking Harvey's hand and promising to leave a number in case there was anything else the police required, before the three of them emerged into the cold night air.

It didn't take long to find what looked like a fairly decent hotel and by the time they reached the allocated room, it was clear that Peter and Pamela could take little more. There were two beds in the room and they each sank down on one of them, too exhausted it seemed to even undress themselves. One at a time, he gently coaxed them out of their clothes and, fishing into their bags, found pyjamas for each of them, dressed them and then helped them into bed not even insisting, as he might otherwise have done, that they even wash up or clean their teeth. In the time it took him to move their belonging to the wardrobe by the door, they were both fast asleep and he stood watching them for what seemed like hours before slipping out of the room to find a telephone.

XXXX

Evelyn had dosed on and off since Ben had left, but hadn't been able to fully fall asleep. Every time she thought about him, she saw the panic and concern that had played out across his face as he had dressed and the way he had, without a moment's hesitation, gone to his childrens' rescue. It was a very attractive quality, a man who would do anything for his children, and she couldn't help but suddenly understand how tortured he had been after the shooting, knowing that there had been nothing he could have done to save their baby.

At six o'clock, she gave up on the idea of sleep, got up and went through to make herself some coffee. It was strange being in the apartment without him and though she couldn't have said it was particularly cold, she felt a chill rush through her as she looked around and realised just how alone she was.

As the pot was about to boil, the phone suddenly started to ring and she dived for it, knowing that it could only be him. "Hello?"

"Hey. I wasn't sure if you'd be up. I was going to leave a message."

"Oh I couldn't really sleep," she replied, letting out a long breath in relief. "It's good to hear your voice. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"The kids?"

"As well as can be expected." He filled her in on the events of the evening, her eyes widening at the revelation of Mark's past crimes. "We're at the Times Inn just outside the city. They've crashed out...the pair of them are exhausted..." he sighed heavily. "The detective reckons that Laura and Mark will probably be released without charge."

"What do you think?"

"If it was me, I'd want to go after O'Reilly, especially with his history of domestic abuse, but..." he trailed off. "At the end of the day, it sounds like it was a fight...both as bad as each other." He sighed again. "What the hell was she thinking, getting involved with someone with that kind of history?"

Evelyn paused, trying to be charitable and yet wondering why she was bothering given how much Peter, Pamela and, by extension Ben, were suffering. "Maybe she didn't realise."

"Oh come on, Evelyn, she must have suspected _something_ at least. Not to mention the fact that the first time he showed any signs of being like that she should have kicked him out!"

She said nothing, appreciating that it was not the best time to remind him that it sometimes wasn't as easy as that, yet slightly disappointed that, given everything, he was being so short-sighted about it all. "So what now?"

"Well there's no way in hell I'm letting them go back to that house, whether she gets released or not. If things were different, I'd bring them straight back down to the city with me once they woke up, but there's so much to consider."

"Such as?"

"The hearing on Monday for one, not to mention the fact that they still have to go to school..." he sighed again. "It would seem to make more sense for me to stay up here with them, take them to school on Monday, go to the hearing and, hopefully, by Monday afternoon have full custody."

"Well that all sounds great, but if she _does_ get released, isn't Laura going to wonder where the kids are? Not to mention the fact that if they _are_ going to stay with you, surely they'll need things from the house?"

"I can't...I really can't think about that right now." She could hear the exhaustion in his voice and wished she was there to offer some kind of comfort. "I think we all need to get some sleep and...re-evaluate later."

"Ok," she said softly. "I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah...bye..."

XXXX

"There's a hearing? An actual court hearing?"

"Yes," Ben replied in answer to Peter's question. "On Monday at noon."

"Do we get to go?"

"No..."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll be in school."

"But...if it's about us, shouldn't we be there?"

Ben paused as both kids stared at him, Peter's eyes flashing with indignation, Pamela's mouth surrounded by croissant crumbs. After returning to the room, he had fallen asleep on the bed next to his son, wakening around eleven. Once they were all up and dressed, they had found a local deli for brunch and he had talked to them about the events of the previous night and what was going to happen. The news of the court hearing had clearly come as a surprise to both of them.

"Didn't your mother tell you about it?"

"No," Peter replied. "After you left last week, she just said that you probably wouldn't be back."

"Really..." he tried hard to keep his temper.

"Were you really going to have a baby with Evelyn?" Pamela asked quietly.

"Yes," he replied honestly. "But when she was shot, unfortunately...the baby died." Pamela looked away. "But even if that hadn't happened, and there was still a baby, it would in _no way_ change how I feel about the two of you." He looked at Peter. "And it was wrong for you to have to find out the way that you did."

Peter looked down at his pancakes. "I guess I shouldn't have been listening."

"Maybe not, but I would have liked to have told you about it under different circumstances."

"So we stay with you until the hearing?" Peter brought the conversation back to the present moment.

Ben nodded, "We'll stay at the hotel again tonight, I'll drop you both at school tomorrow and then we'll see what the judge says."

"What do you think he'll say?"

"Well...I hope that he'll say it's better for both of you to stay with me for a while."

"But what about school?"

"You still need to go to school...we'd have to work out how to get you there from the city until the end of the year, but we'd manage that."

"What if he says we have to go back and stay with Mom?" Pamela asked.

"Then that's what you'd have to do."

"But..."

"But..." he interrupted her next statement, "that won't be happening without me putting up one hell of a fight and making sure that Mark isn't going to be there anymore." He reached over and covered her hand with his. "You are what is most important here, ok? Both of you."

"We don't have all our things though," Peter said. "We need our books and our clothes and stuff from home."

Ben checked his watch and saw that it was just coming up to noon. It was possible that Laura and Mark would still be at the station, but equally possible that they had already been released. As hesitant as he was to have a confrontation with either of them, he knew that going to the house was unavoidable.

"Do you have keys?" They both nodded. "Ok, finish up and we'll head over there now."

XXXX

She wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. Having dragged out breakfast until eight, she had then showered, dressed and gathered some things together to take back to her apartment. It had been a week since she had last been there and she knew that there would be more mail to collect, not to mention the fact that the place hadn't seen a vacuum or a duster in who knew how long. If she was going to be staying with Ben indefinitely, and that seemed to be what he wanted, she couldn't just let her own place go to rack and ruin.

 _But is it what_ you _want?_

Ever since he had properly proposed to her, she had been tossing things back and forth in her mind. He had done what she had hoped he would and yet...had he? Things seemed so different now. In twenty-four hours she could be a full time step-mother, living in a cramped apartment with two emotionally vulnerable teenagers...

 _Or you could be living a life of fun and new adventures in London!_

"Ridiculous," she said aloud, giving herself a shake and lifting her purse. What she had said in response to Sarah's offer had been right. How could she possibly leave Ben and the kids, especially now?

Casting around for her keys, she caught sight of them on the table and, as she grabbed them, couldn't help but notice a copy of the application Ben had lodged at the court the previous week. He had let her read it and she had agreed with everything he had said in it, but something else now caught her eye, something that hadn't even registered the first time she had looked at.

Mark O'Reilly. Mark _O'Reilly..._

She stared at the typed name contained within the condescendence of the application and couldn't help a nagging feeling starting inside.

 _O'Reilly..._

Where had she heard that name before?

The longer she stared at it, the less sense it seemed to make so, finally, she dropped the papers back onto the table and headed out. The cold winter wind hit her square in the face when she stepped outside and once she had reached the main road it took almost ten minutes to flag a cab, the driver of which delighted in telling her that his heating wasn't working and that he hoped she wouldn't be too cold. As she sat in the back seat, her teeth chattering in the cold, he made banal conversation about things she would never remember. The name kept running round and round in her head and still she could make no sense of it.

Fortunately, whatever construction had been going on the previous weekend had finished and the cab was able to drop her directly outside her building. As she paid and got out, however, she still felt a strange sensation wash over her and her eyes still searched for the spot, her heart hammering in her chest. She was definitely going to call Liz's office in the coming week and set up an appointment.

Her own apartment was chilly, but she threw her coat over the couch, turned up the thermostat and attacked the jobs she had mentally listed for herself on the way over. She ran the vacuum around, dusted the furniture, emptied the fridge of what was long past its date and then finally sat down to survey her hard work. The place looked better, a lot better and she was reminded how she had felt when she had first gotten the keys and realised that she was going to have her own place for the first time in her life. It had been something akin to being let out of prison.

 _Prison...was there someone in prison called O'Reilly...?_

The buzzing of the door broke into her train of thought and she lifted the receiver, wondering who it could be. "Hello?"

"Evelyn, it's Mike and Lennie. Do you mind if we come up?"

"Oh...uh...sure..." she pressed the button and heard the security door click, then opened the apartment door and stepped out into the hallway. They both appeared at the top of the stairs relatively quickly, Lennie panting slightly from the effort. "It's only two floors," she joked.

"Lennie's a little out of shape," Mike said. "Now me...no problem."

She gestured for them to go inside and then followed them. "Can I get you guys anything? Coffee?"

"No thanks," Lennie replied. "It's not really a social call."

"Oh..." she turned to face them, her heart starting to beat faster. "It's not...it's not Ben is it? Or the kids?"

They exchanged glances. "No," Mike said. "Were you expecting it to be?"

"No, it's just..." she shook her head, pushing away the morbid thoughts. "Ben's up in Connecticut with the kids right now...family stuff...I just...I'm sorry. What _is_ it about?"

"It's actually about the shooting," Mike said.

"Oh..." she looked at him. "I thought that investigation had stalled?"

"It had, but we've been working at it in our free time."

"Ok."

"How much do you know about your husband's involvement with the Lucchese family?" Lennie asked.

"Only what he told me," Evelyn replied, motioning for them to sit down. "He claimed that he had invested a lot of money into a company fronted by them."

"Bianchi & Co?"

"Yes, they own a chain of restaurants, or so I'm led to believe. Eddie told me that the family had a hold over most of our marital assets but I wasn't sure how much to believe and then...well...he put me up against the wall and that was the end of that conversation."

Mike nodded grimly. "How did you first find out about the company? Was it through Edward?"

"Uh, no..." she thought back. "It first came up during a money laundering trial back in the summer. We had a witness, Mary Fellowes, who worked for a company called Lehrman & Co and she testified to the falsification of invoices to Bianchi & Co and..." she trailed off as it suddenly hit her...the thing that had been nagging at her all day...

Mike leaned forward, "And?"

"And...O'Reilly Limited."

"Both companies are fronted by the family?"

"Uh..." her mind raced. "Well, we really only focused on Bianchi & Co because Patrick Lehrman, the CEO, took a deal to testify against his co-defendants and he told Ben that he had been threatened by members of the family and the names mentioned only seemed to relate to Bianchi & Co..."

"What about O'Reilly Limited?" She said nothing. "Evelyn?"

"Umm...it's a construction company run by Robert O'Reilly, that's as much as I know...Lehrman was going to name names in a deposition that was hopefully going to open the door to a potential federal prosecution..." she trailed off again, a vague memory of Ben telling her about Lehrman's deposition swirling around her head...but there had been no mention of anyone called O'Reilly...or had there?

It had to be a coincidence. There had to be hundreds, thousands, of people with that surname, and hadn't Mark himself told her he was from Winthrop, Massachusetts? There was no connection to New York, no connection to the Luccheses'...

She pulled herself back to the matter at hand. "What does any of this have to do with what happened?"

"Well..." Lennie said, "we think it's possible that the family had you shot, as a warning to Edward."

Evelyn frowned, "What kind of warning?"

"A warning not to go against them."

Edward's message came back to her... _they're crazy..._ "But if they'd killed me, I doubt Eddie would have cared that much, I mean...we're getting divorced after all..."

"They didn't want to kill you, Evelyn. If they'd wanted you dead, you'd be dead," Mike said. "This is the mob we're talking about. We reckon it was done to show Edward that he would be next. He'd already told you about his involvement with them and it would only be natural that you might share that information with your colleagues at the DA's office...how were they to know that indictments weren't going to follow?"

"A shiver ran through her, "So...what, you think they were following me or...?"

"It's hard to say," Lennie said. "People like that are everywhere. But unless they ordered a couple of guys to sit and wait outside your apartment indefinitely, it's anyone's guess how they knew the exact moment you'd be on the street that night."

Like a jigsaw, pieces started to slip into place in her mind and she let out a deep shuddering breath at the realisation. "They'd know if someone told them. Someone who could tell them exactly when we left Hartford and how long it would take to drive to the city."

"Wait..." Mike sat forward, "you know who that someone is?"

"Yes..." she looked at him. "Yes, I think I do."


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you to all my reviewers, I love you all!**

 **Enjoy :)**

"Wait a minute," Lennie said. "So you think that this Mark O'Reilly, the guy who's dating Ben's ex-wife, is connected to the company the Luccheses' are involved with and that he's the one who tipped them off?"

"Exactly," Evelyn nodded. "Don't you see how it makes sense?"

"It's a bit of a leap," Mike said. "I mean, there must be millions of people with that surname in the five boroughs alone, never mind Connecticut."

"But think about it," she said, standing up. "Who else would have been in the perfect position to tell a shooter when I was going to be home? We had dinner with Laura, Mark and the kids up in Hartford that evening. Ben and I left to come back to the city and Mark would have known how long it was going to take us _and_ that we were coming back to my apartment."

"But you don't even know that he's definitely connected to the company, nor do we even know if the company is connected to the mob."

"He told me he was in construction and O'Reilly Limited is a construction company. Not to mention the fact that Mary Fellowes testified that both companies were involved in the false invoicing. Why would that be the case if they weren't both mob fronts? Like I said, we only focused on Bianchi & Co because that's where the names given linked to." She looked between them. "It's worth checking out, surely?"

"Yeah..." Lennie paused. "We could run a check on Mark, see if anything relevant shows up."

"And there's the phone message."

"What phone message?"

"The one Eddie left on my machine last week. He was apologising for what happened to me, saying that 'they're crazy...'" She got up and moved over to the phone, playing back the tape, the sound of Edward's voice filling the air again.

 _"It's me...I...I don't know what to say...I never wanted...I never wanted this. I never wanted you to be hurt like that, I...you have to believe me, Evelyn, they're crazy. I just...I know you don't want to hear this and you probably don't even believe me, but I had nothing to do with it. I'm in deep shit and...I don't even know why I'm calling you. You might as well just call the cops and have me arrested again. I'm sorry."_

She turned back to face them. "You thought that he was involved that, somehow, he had paid someone to shoot me to stop me testifying...well he _is_ involved, but just not in the way that we thought. He obviously knows that it was them."

Mike popped open the machine and took the tape out. "Can we take this?" She nodded. "Why didn't you say something when you got this message?"

Evelyn paused, not altogether comfortable in revealing her thought process and that she had contemplated arranging to meet Edward. "I wasn't sure what to do," she replied honestly. "He sounds sincere enough on the tape..."

"He's breached his bail by contacting you though," Lennie pointed out.

"Exactly, why would he do that? He _knows_ it was them. I'm sure if you talked to him, he might be willing to give you something that might lead to identifying who it was."

"We'd need to wait until the trial was over," Mike said.

"Why?" Evelyn frowned. "It's a completely separate investigation. You wouldn't be violating any of his rights and even with his lawyer there, he'd have a hard time explaining he meant something else."

"DA's orders," Lennie said. "Until the trial is over, no-one talks to Edward about anything."

"Jack McCoy said that?"

Lennie nodded, "And the order was from on high."

"Look, Evelyn..." Mike stepped forward. "You've got a big day tomorrow. Why don't you just park this to one side for the next few days and we'll see what we can dig up?"

"How can I just 'park it?'" she demanded angrily. "I was shot, Mike! My baby was killed!"

"I know," he said, "but you need to go into that court tomorrow and nail the son-of-a-bitch that abused you for all those years, not start thinking up ways that he might be able to help you."

"But..."

"And remember," Lennie said, "even if he _does_ know who it was, even if he could help us nail someone in the family...ultimately you were still shot _because_ of him."

His words resonated. He was right. She couldn't just cast aside everything else because Edward might be able to offer a crumb of connectivity, no matter how much she might want to. Sighing, she sank back into the couch, wishing that Ben were there. "You're right...I know you're right."

"You said that Ben was up in Connecticut dealing with family stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Does it have anything to do with O'Reilly?"

"Laura and Mark got into a fight last night and were both arrested. Ben had to go up to get the kids."

"He's bringing them back here?" Mike asked.

"Uh...no, he's staying up there with them for the next couple of days just to try and sort things out..." Evelyn got to her feet again, unsure in reality how much of his personal business Ben would want the police to know about. "Hopefully he might be back later this week."

"So, he's not going to be at court with you tomorrow?"

"No," she met Mike's gaze. "But I don't need him there. It's not as if he can testify for me. I'll be fine."

Mike looked as though he was going to say something else, then seemed to think better of it and nodded. "Well, we're not on the list until at least Wednesday. I guess McCoy figures you're going to be up there for a while."

She knew that, on some level, he meant it supportively, but it only compounded exactly just what she would be facing in the coming days...and facing alone. "Well I guess you can't rush fifteen year's worth of evidence," she said.

"No, guess not."

"We'll leave you alone now," Lennie said, "but thanks for the information. I promise that if we find out anything pertinent, we'll let you know."

"Thanks," she said, opening the apartment door. "I appreciate you coming."

"You take care of yourself," Mike said sincerely.

"I will," she replied, watching as they made their way back to the stairs. "I don't have any other choice."

XXXX

The street was quiet, though it was hardly surprising given the weather. The sky was the shade of gun metal, the wind fierce, the temperature cold enough for snow. Laura's car was in the driveway when Ben pulled up outside, but given she had been removed in a squad car, it was hardly surprising. There were no immediate signs from within that there was anyone home, but as he cut the engine, he knew that he needed to be the first one inside.

"Peter, give me your keys," he said, stretching into the backseat.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously. "Aren't we all going inside?"

"I want to check if your mother or Mark are there first so give me your keys." Peter handed them over somewhat reluctantly and Ben opened the car door. "Both of you wait here until I say it's ok to come inside."

"Dad..." Pamela said.

"It'll be fine, Pam, I promise. Just give me a minute." Closing the door, he walked around the car and made his way up the drive to the front door. The handle refused to yield, indicating the door was indeed locked and, when he slid the key into the lock, it moved easily, so there were no keys behind it. He pushed the handle down and opened the door. "Hello?" There was no reply, no sudden movement, no nothing. "Hello?" Stepping inside, he made his way into the living room, still bearing the scars of the previous night. There was glass on the floor, pictures were crooked, some furniture overturned and spots of what looked like dried blood on the coffee table. The kitchen had fared little better, cupboard doors hanging open and broken crockery on the floor.

Satisfied that the coast was clear, he moved back to the front door and motioned for the kids to come inside. When they did, he saw the expressions on their face at the scene before them and knew that he needed to get them in and out as quickly as possible. "Ok, I want you both to go upstairs and get as much as you think you'll need for the next few weeks, quick as you can." As they pounded up the stairs and into their rooms, he turned back into the living room and over to the far wall where there was a gallery of photographs. They ranged from Peter and Pamela as babies, then pre-schoolers, middle school and right up to the present day. Laura herself was in some of them, but most of them were only of the kids. Unsurprisingly, he was nowhere to be seen but then neither was Mark and, for that at least, he was grateful.

The sound of an engine and the screech of brakes that clearly needed attending to, suddenly caught his attention and, heading back to the front window, he saw Laura getting out of a cab. He saw her look at his car, then turn and pay the driver through the window before hurrying up the drive and throwing open the front door.

She looked hellish, as though she hadn't had a wink of sleep which was most likely accurate, and the beginnings of a fetching black eye along with various scratches littered her face. Before any of this had happened, seeing her like that would have filled him with horror and concern. But now...he felt little, his sympathy resting squarely with his children.

"What the hell's going on?" Laura demanded, coming into the living room. "What are you doing here?"

"The kids are getting their things and then I'm taking them back to the hotel I had to take them to last night," he replied calmly.

"You can't do that."

"I think you'll find that I can. I'm their father, Laura, and they're not safe here."

"Not safe...don't be ridiculous!" she squared up to him, her eyes flashing with anger. "I am their _mother_ and I have never put them in danger!"

"No? What do you call allowing a man with an arrest record like Mark's to move into their home? What do you call having your teenage son call the police because of a violent argument between the two of you? What do you call having _our_ _children_ dragged to a police station in the middle of the night?!"

She paused, her anger dissipating into obvious shame. "I never meant for that to happen. Ben, please, you know me. I have been a good mother to those kids for ten years and now because of one mistake..."

"Is it only one mistake?" he cut her off. "From what the kids have told me in the past I don't think it is. I see you came back here alone. Can we expect Mark to show up soon? Maybe you'd like a bigger audience for round two."

"That's not...I mean it isn't...that won't happen!"

"Well I'm not going to take that chance," he pushed past her into the hallway. "Come on kids, let's go!"

"Please Ben, please don't do this..." Laura followed him. "Don't take them away from me..."

"I don't have a choice!"

"Yes you do! They're safe here, I promise they are..." she broke off as Peter and Pamela came thundering down the stairs, bags in hand. "Peter, Pam...I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Peter pushed past her and headed outside to the car, but Pamela paused, her eyes darting between her parents, her loyalties clearly conflicted. "Pam...sweetheart...I'm so sorry for what you had to go through last night..."

"Pam, get in the car," Ben said quietly.

"Pamela..."

"Now," he insisted, gesturing outside.

"No..." Laura moaned as Pamela followed her brother. "You can't do this, Ben. You can't do this!"

"I can and I am," he said, turning for the door. "I'll see you in court tomorrow and then we'll find out whether or not a judge thinks they're safer with you than they are with me."

"Yeah, and what is he going to hear?" she sneered, following him outside. "He's going to hear about a man who let his wife walk out on him and take his kids to a different state without even so much as a raised eyebrow. He's going to hear about a father who's barely been there for his children in the last ten years but suddenly, just because he has a girlfriend now, he thinks he's cut out to be a full time dad!"

Ben ignored her as best he could, opening the driver's door and climbing inside.

"You and that bitch are not taking my children!" Laura exclaimed, grabbing onto the door. "If she was dead you wouldn't be doing this!"

He heard Pamela gasp from the backseat and anger flared inside him. But he knew that to react the way he sorely wanted to would make him no better than her, no better than Mark, and he was going to win that custody hearing if it killed him. "Let go of the door, Laura," he said quietly.

"No!"

He stepped back out of the car and took hold of her fingers, prying her grip free as gently as he could despite her protests. She lashed out at him, catching him across the face, but he took hold of her wrists and propelled her back towards the front door out of earshot. "Do you really want them to see this?!" he demanded. "Don't you think they've seen enough anger and violence to last them a lifetime?!"

She glanced over his shoulder to where he knew Peter and Pamela would be watching the scene unfold as horrified spectators. The tension in her body slowly started to fade and she pulled her arms out of his grip. "I hate you," she said, tears streaking down her cheeks. "I hate you so much."

He had never thought it before, had never thought that he ever would. He had loved her so much and she _had_ been a good mother, performed far better than he ever had as a father, but now...now was when it counted and now he knew that it was true. "I hate you too," he replied softly before turning and getting back into the car.

"Is Mom alright?" Pamela asked as he switched on the engine and began backing down the drive. Laura stood watching them go, cutting somewhat of a pathetic figure against the backdrop of it all.

"She'll be fine, Pam," Ben reassured her as best he could, even though he had no idea if what he was saying was true or not. "She'll be fine."

XXXX

"Why are you calling me?"

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something important?" Evelyn smiled at the mock indignation in Shambala's voice.

"You _might_ be encroaching on my Sunday afternoon marathon soap catch up."

"Or?"

"Or...I could be looking over some case files for next week. I'll let you decide which one it is." Shambala paused. "Why _are_ you calling me? It's still the weekend and you're still on sick leave."

Evelyn paused, somewhat embarrassed to admit that she was feeling lonely and had very few people she could call on. Ben was otherwise occupied and her mother was really the last person she wanted to talk to right now. Forty years of age...and practically friendless. "I was just wondering how things were going at the office," she lied. "You know, I wanted to make sure the place wasn't falling down without me being there."

"You flatter yourself too much," Shambala quipped, "but seeing as you asked, we _are_ busy, not that that's any different from usual. It's not really ideal having your latest recruit shot."

"I'm sorry, next time I'll duck."

"How are you?"

"Fine," Evelyn replied, "feeling much better. I'd like to come back, even just to do some desk work, but my doctor won't sign off on it."

"And I don't blame him, you nearly died for God's sake! You should be taking until Christmas at least!"

"Christmas? That's weeks away. I'll have died of boredom by then."

"What does Ben think?"

"I haven't discussed it with him. It's my decision at the end of the day. I don't need his permission."

Shambala paused, "Is everything ok there?"

"Fine," she lied again. "He's in Connecticut just now with his kids."

"Ah, I knew there had to be a reason he wasn't either waiting on you hand and foot or taking you out somewhere special this afternoon. He's going to be back for court tomorrow though, right?"

"Uh, no...he's got commitments up there tomorrow so...hopefully he'll be back before the end of the week though."

"I see...look, I was hoping that I might be able to be at court for you tomorrow, you know, just for a bit of moral support, but Derek has got me run ragged and I've got three motion hearings, four arraignments and a pre-trial conference with Judge Stein at noon..."

"That _is_ a lot," Evelyn laughed. "Don't be silly, I wasn't expecting you, or indeed anyone, to be there tomorrow. Fact is, it'll probably be easier saying what I have to say without too many familiar faces staring at me." She looked down at the floor, hoping that she sounded sincere. "I guess I'm hoping that it'll be over with quickly."

"Does McCoy think you'll be finished direct tomorrow?"

"He's not sure, maybe. I should at least have tomorrow night to prepare for cross."

"Don't let Adele Diamond intimidate you," Shambala said. "You know what she's like and you know the angle she's going to try and take. Be ready for her."

"I will be."

"You've got this, Evelyn, I know you do. That son-of-a-bitch is going to be spending a lot of time in Attica after this, believe me." Shambala paused again. "Look, do you want me to come over or something? I mean, if you're by yourself..."

"No, no," Evelyn said, giving herself a mental shake. "You've got enough on your plate without adding me to it."

"Yes, but..."

"It's fine, really," she insisted. " _I'm_ fine. I'm just going to...watch some bad TV, maybe eat a pizza and get an early night. I've had nightmares about sleeping through my alarm tomorrow and being late for court.

"As long as you're sure?"

"I am, thanks Shambala."

"Ok."

Evelyn put the phone down, the silence of the apartment surrounding her once again. She didn't know whether to stay there or go back to Ben's. Was one any better than the other when she was alone? Lifting the receiver again, she dialled the number for the Times Inn and asked to be put through to Ben's room, only to be advised that he hadn't returned yet.

"I'm fine," she said to the empty room, unsure who she was trying to convince. "I have no-one, but I'm fine."


	14. Chapter 14

**Have a good weekend everyone!**

She felt a bit like an alien.

It was a place she was very familiar with and yet, she was there for a completely different reason than normal. She wasn't an attorney, confidently striding through the rotunda briefcase in hand, fully in control. No, today she was a witness, nervous and unsure of exactly where to go or what to do. At the main desk, she confirmed what court the case was being heard in and which witness room she was to go too, but part of her didn't want to go there. Part of her wanted to stay amongst the crowds and the noise, where her own thoughts could be drowned out and she didn't need to think too much.

It was eight thirty, and Jack had told her to be there for eight forty five at the latest. The court was due to start at nine but she was experienced enough to know that things could and most likely would happen to delay it. Her eyes scanned the other people walking into the building, wondering if she might catch sight of Edward, but there was no sign of him.

Her bladder suddenly spoke to her and she hurried into the ladies room to let go of the four cups of coffee she had drunk since waking up at five, unable to sleep any longer. Ben had called her the previous evening, told her what had happened with Laura at the house, asked if she was alright, lamented that he couldn't be with her and reminded her that he loved her, but none of it had made her feel any better and lying in his bed without him, as she had chosen to do, had done little to help.

Staring at herself in the mirror, she realised that she had probably put a little bit too much makeup on that morning, but she had been desperate to look 'put together' not to mention professional. She wanted the jury to form a good impression of her, but the overuse of blusher probably wasn't going to assist her in that, so she rubbed at it, hoping to make it look less obvious. As she was doing so, the door suddenly swung open and Claire appeared.

"Oh good, you're here!" she exclaimed. "I was looking for you outside."

"Call of nature," she replied. "Besides, I guess I should be in the witness room by now, right?"

Claire nodded. "There might be a bit of a delay though."

"What kind of delay?"

"Diamond wants to talk to the judge in chambers," she explained. "We think Edward wants to plead on record to the two assaults he offered before, the ones at the Algonquin and at the 2-7, so that there's no evidence of them led before the jury."

Evelyn paused, "What does Jack think?"

"He would prefer that they stay where they are for now. They show a continuation of Edward's behaviour towards you even after you separated, but if he wants to plead to them before the trial starts, there's not a lot we can do about it."

"Do you think he might be willing to plead to anything else?" Evelyn asked hopefully.

"I doubt it, don't you? He would have done it before now, surely?"

"I know..." she sighed, "I guess right up until I take the oath and sit down in the box I'll be hoping some miracle might come along to prevent all this."

"You're going to be fine," Claire said, putting her hand on her shoulder. "We have complete faith in you."

"Thanks."

"I was looking for Ben outside but I couldn't see him."

"Oh...uh...he's not here." Claire raised her eyebrows in surprise. "There was an issue with his children over the weekend and he's actually going to be in court up in Connecticut this afternoon about it so..."

"Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, it should be fine. He just...couldn't be in two places at once that's all," she smiled as bravely as she could even though the very thought of him so removed from her was painful.

"Well you know that Jack and I are rooting for you," Claire replied. "I'll come to the witness room and let you know once the preliminary matters have been dealt with, ok?"

"Ok, thanks," Evelyn said, watching as Claire disappeared out of the door again. Once she was finally satisfied with her own appearance, she stepped back out into the rotunda and started heading for the witness room. As she did so, she suddenly caught sight of a familiar face coming through the front door, checking his watch as he did so. Though part of her had wanted to see him, she found herself ducking behind a pillar to avoid him. He stopped just inside the door, looked around and then headed for the mens' room. As he disappeared inside, she let out a slow breath and stepped back into view again, wondering what she would have said to him had they really come face to face. It was better that they didn't. She had to hold her nerve, had to be strong.

"Oh Ben..." she sighed softly to herself as she turned back towards the witness room. "I wish you were here."

XXXX

"I still don't see why we can't come with you," Peter moaned as Ben pulled up outside the school. "It's not as if we'd miss much here and the judge should want to know how we feel!"

"He'll know how you feel," Ben replied. "Your wishes were contained within my application to the court."

"But that can't be the same as hearing from us directly, can it?"

"Maybe not, but it's the best we can do right now. It's much more important that you be in school and I doubt any judge would look favourably on me if I allowed you to miss it, do you?"

"I guess not..." he mused. "But how are we going to know what happened? If Mom picks us up does that mean that she won and if you pick us up it means you did?"

"I'll make you a promise," Ben said, looking from Peter to Pamela, sat in the backseat. "Regardless of what happens at court today, I will be here at four o'clock and I will tell you the outcome, even if that means you have to go home with your mother."

"You don't think we'll have to though Dad, do you?" Pamela asked.

"I hope not, but I can't promise."

"We know you'll try your best," Peter said. "We know you're a great lawyer."

"Well..." Ben paused, slightly overcome by the praise. "I don't know about that, but I'll give it my best shot, ok?" They both nodded. "Right, then you'd better get going." Pamela leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, Peter settling for a manly, understanding shake of the head. He watched as they both crossed the road and hurried onto the campus together and kept watching until they had disappeared from sight, then he pulled away from the kerb and drove towards the centre of town.

It was too early to head to the courthouse, so instead he bought a paper, found a coffee shop, ordered a cappuccino and tried to take his mind off of all of the events of the day. Evelyn would be at the courthouse by now, no doubt anxiously awaiting being called as the prosecution's first witness. He hated the fact that he couldn't be with her and he silently prayed to a God he hadn't spoken to in a long time to give her the strength to make it through what was surely going to be an ordeal.

The newspaper held no interest so he reached into his case and pulled out the copy application that he had remembered to bring with him, re-reading the typed words and reassuring himself that he had a good case, especially in light of what had happened over the weekend. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he was determined to walk out of that court with full custody of his children.

He had never been more determined to win a case in all of his life.

XXXX

As the hands of her watch slipped to eleven o'clock, Evelyn stood up to stretch her legs and wandered around the small witness room. It felt as though she had been sitting there for days reading the same out of date magazines over and over again. There was a coffee machine in the corner and she had tried to limit herself to two cups, lest she suddenly need the bathroom midway through her evidence, but the need to find something to do was greater than her willpower and she was just filling the third cup when the door opened and both Jack and Claire appeared.

"Sorry for the delay," the former apologised.

"What's happening?"

"Edward wanted to plead to the two assault charges prior to the trial starting. His lawyer argued that it was pointless hearing evidence in relation to charges that her client took no issue with. I argued to leave them there, hoping it might not only show the jury a continuation of behaviour but also force Edward to take the stand." Jack paused. "I'm afraid that Ms Diamond won that round. Edward's going to plead to the charges officially before the jury are sworn in. I'm sorry."

"Does it really matter?" Evelyn asked. "There are still a lot of other charges."

"Maybe not, but I wanted the jury to hear everything."

"No sign of him pleading to anything else?"

"No." Jack checked his watch. "Judge Callaghan is keen to get started given the delay. Swearing in the jury and opening statements shouldn't take much more than an hour, so I reckon we'll be getting you on the stand around midday." He put his hands on her shoulders. "You're doing great, so far."

"Oh I don't know about that," she laughed lightly. "We haven't even started yet."

"You can do this," he said encouragingly. "We'll see you in there. Remember, look at me and the jury, not at him and keep as calm as you can."

Evelyn nodded in agreement and then watched as they both left. An hour. Another hour of sitting alone with her thoughts. She would be taking the stand at the same time as Ben would be fighting for his children. Could they both be successful, or was that just too much to ask of the universe? With shaking hands, she made herself another cup of coffee and sipped it slowly, trying to think about something...anything...other than what was about to happen.

She found herself thinking back to the first time she had met Edward. Twenty-four years old and completely naive when it came to most things. She remembered thinking what a huge firm Burns & Associates were and how lucky she was to have secured a job there. She remembered seeing the handsome young lawyer crossing the room towards her to shake her hand. She remembered his smile, the deep brown of his eyes, the firm grip in his handshake. She remembered the butterflies in her stomach and the way she had felt herself blush slightly as his gaze had roamed over her. She remembered finding her desk mere feet away from his office and stealing glances through the glass whenever she hoped he wasn't looking. She remembered leaving work that evening and him wishing her goodnight and that he hoped she would enjoy working there. She remembered giggling like a schoolgirl and saying that she was sure she would. She remembered making an extra special effort on her appearance every day after that until he had finally asked her out.

If she could meet that girl again now, she would tell her to run for the hills, to not allow herself to be seduced mentally and physically, to hold out for someone better...

The door of the room opened suddenly and the court officer appeared, a man she recognised but who gave no indication that he recognised her. "Mrs Burns? You're being called."

She nodded and lifted her purse, unable to believe that an hour could pass so quickly when you allowed yourself to reminisce. Following him out of the room and down the corridor towards the courtroom, she felt her heart start to hammer in her chest and when the door opened and she saw all the people inside, part of her wanted to take to her heels and run, hide under a rock...anything...anything except do what she was about to do.

But she kept walking, down the aisle, through the gate and across the floor to the witness box, knowing that she had no other choice. She had to do it for that twenty-four year old girl who had had no idea of what was to come and for every other woman who had ever lived through what she had.

As she stepped up into the box, she got her first glimpse of the sea of faces staring at her and though she tried not to, she found her gaze straying to the defence table. Adele Diamond was looking at her impassively. Edward was looking away from her. Swivelling her eyes to the prosecution table, she saw Jack and Claire watching her, the latter smiling and nodding supportively at her before the court officer blocked her view and held out the Bible.

"Place your left hand on the Bible and raise your right hand," he said in the practiced voice of someone who had said the words so many times before. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

Evelyn let out a long breath and nodded. "I do."

XXXX

The Hartford County courthouse was not dissimilar to that of New York County and Ben couldn't help but think, as he made his way to the appropriate waiting area, that had things been different, he could have been plying his trade here instead of in the city. Perhaps he and Laura would have reconciled, perhaps not. Perhaps he would have been a better father, perhaps not. Perhaps he would have been happier, perhaps not. Though the point was moot, it played on his mind as he sat down outside the courtroom and waited for the case to be called.

Evelyn had been right. It had been a long time since he had been involved in any civil family cases and perhaps it might have been wise to secure representation rather than simply assume he could handle this on his own. If he lost, he wasn't sure he would be able to face the children, regardless of what he had promised them. If he lost, it would just be another slap in the face to them...further proof of his failure.

As those, and many other, thoughts swirled around in his head, he was suddenly distracted by two figures walking along the corridor to join him. One was Laura, dressed smartly in a suit though with her black eye now fully matured and the other, he assumed, was her attorney. They took seats as far away from him as they could and Laura never once looked in his direction.

A few moments later, the door of the courtroom opened and the court officer came outside. "Case of Stone v Williams?" he asked, glancing around.

Ben got to his feet and followed him back inside the courtroom, assuming that the others would follow. Inside, it looked no different to any other courtroom and though his immediate instinct was to move to, effectively, the prosecution table, he suddenly realised that he wasn't entirely sure who was supposed to sit where.

"Mr Stone?" the court officer gestured to the table on the right and he thankfully took his seat. The judge was already on the bench, Judge Normand, a man in his early sixties, as so many of them seemed to be. He was leafing through the papers and didn't look up to acknowledge either of them until the doors were finally closed.

"Case of Stone v Williams, your honour," the court officer said, reading from his clipboard. "Emergency application for custody of Peter and Pamela Stone."

Judge Norman looked over at him and Ben suddenly felt inexplicably nervous. "Mr Stone, are you represented by counsel for the purposes of this hearing?"

"No, your Honour."

"Don't you think it would be prudent to have an attorney?"

"Uh...I _am_ an attorney your Honour."

"Yes I can see that from your pleadings. Executive Assistant District Attorney, Manhattan County. Very impressive. I'm sure you're an expert in all matters relating to the penal law. But this is civil family court. Are you telling me that you're an expert in that area of law too?"

"Well...no, but I think I can manage," Ben replied, hoping his tone sounded full of hopeful expectation rather than arrogance.

"Very well." Judge Norman turned to where Laura and her attorney were seated. "And this must be Ms Williams...nice to see _you_ again Ms Cullen."

"And you your Honour."

"You're representing Ms Williams for this hearing?"

"I am."

"Good, good...now I've read your pleadings, Mr Stone, but is there anything you wish to add at this stage?"

Ben took a deep breath. "Yes, your Honour. Two nights ago I received a call from the East Hartford Police department advising me that my ex wife and her current partner Mr O'Reilly were in custody there for a domestic matter and that my children had also been taken to the precinct. I was asked to attend there by the officer in charge to collect them. When I arrived, both my children were extremely upset and upon being advised that my ex-wife was to remain in custody overnight, I had to take both children to a hotel where we have remained until today."

"I see...Ms Cullen?"

"It was a fairly minor matter, your Honour," Laura's lawyer replied smoothly. "Both parties were released the following morning without charge."

"It's hardly a minor matter when two children are dragged to a police station in the middle of the night. Can you tell me what actually happened?"

"Ms Williams and Mr O'Reilly had a minor disagreement, there was some shouting, a few household items got broken and, as far as we understand it, my client's son called the police."

"That would be Peter, the fifteen year old?"

"Yes."

Judge Norman frowned. "And your client thinks that it's acceptable that her children should not only witness such matters but also be placed in such a state of fear that they have no option but to call the authorities?"

"Of course not, but it was a one-off and my client assures me..."

"Excuse me, your Honour, but as far as my children are concerned, this is not a one-off," Ben interrupted. "They have disclosed to me that this type of behaviour has happened several times since their mother began her relationship with Mr O'Reilly and you will see from the application their wish to reside with myself, a wish that continues to this present day."

"Yes...Ms Cullen, what does your client have to say about her children's views on this matter?"

"She understands that the children are upset by what has happened, but they are her number one priority your Honour and, for what it's worth, despite what Mr Stone says, she doesn't believe that it would be in their best interests to live with their father at this time."

"Why not?"

Ben braced himself, knowing what was coming, and yet feeling slightly unfazed by it.

"Mr Stone has not been a consistent figure in the children's lives. As your Honour alluded to, he has a high-powered job in the city which requires long hours at the office and it has really only been in the last few months that he has been having visitation with the children on a regular basis. Prior to that, many months could do by without Mr Stone seeing the children and neither party seemed particularly affected by the lack of contact. Add into that mix the fact that his apartment is not suitable for the children on a long term basis and the unsuitable relationship that he himself has recently entered into..."

"Oh? I see from Mr Stone's papers that he has been seeing a fellow attorney, Evelyn Burns for some months now. What's unsuitable about that?"

Laura's attorney glanced sideways at him. "Your Honour may have read that Mrs Burns, the woman in question, has accused her husband of several, serious current and historical physical and sexual offences and is probably testifying against him in court in New York as we speak."

"What does that have to do with where your client's children reside?"

"My client feels that she is not the sort of person that the children should be associating with. My understanding is that Mrs Burns was shot by a man, who may have been hired by her husband, only a few weeks ago, an incident Mr Stone was also present at. Had the children been there your Honour..."

"But they weren't there, were they? Unlike when your client and her boyfriend ended up getting arrested." Judge Norman looked back down at the papers. "You said the apartment was unsuitable. What's wrong with it?"

"It only has two bedrooms and if Mrs Burns is staying there, then one of the children requires to sleep on the couch which, I'm sure your Honour will agree, is not ideal for a teenager."

"Mr Stone?"

"I understand that it isn't ideal for anyone to have to sleep on the couch," Ben said, "and my son has only done it once or twice. Mrs Burns does not reside with me on a full time basis and, on every other occasion, I have slept on the couch myself and the children have each have their own room. If your Honour was minded to grant my application then I would certainly have no difficulty in beginning to look for larger accommodation."

"What about your ex wife's concerns regarding your hours at work?"

"I work long hours, that's true, but I am currently on vacation until the end of the year and therefore I would be able to be there for the children."

"That is simply a short term solution, your Honour," Laura's attorney replied, "Not to mention the fact that taking them to New York would mean disrupting their education at an extremely crucial stage."

"I would be happy for them to remain at their current school for the present time and I would see to it that they attended there," Ben replied.

"That's a four hour round trip, at least, every day. That's not conducive to allow them time for homework and study, not to mention extra-curricular activities. Peter is an extremely talented baseball player and trains several nights a week and plays most weekends."

"On that point at least I have to agree with you, Ms Cullen." Judge Norman sighed. "As for everything else you've said...I find your client's behaviour in this matter concerning."

"Your honour..."

"For there to be repeated incidents of violence in the home is bad enough, but for the situation to escalate to the extent that it did, where minor children had to contact the police and be taken from the home at night to a police precinct shows wilful disregard of their best interests. Given that your client was arrested along with Mr O'Reilly, the police must have believed her to be equally culpable for the events of that night. For her to then turn around and suggest that Mrs Burns, a woman who appears to have been a victim of serious and sustained domestic violence for many years, is not a suitable person to associate with her children is clearly ridiculous and self-serving. Mr Stone...I'm inclined, given the events of the weekend and your children's clear wishes, to grant your application...but the schooling aspect of it concerns me. I appreciate that this is a difficult issue but is there any prospect of you being able to obtain accommodation here in Hartford? At least until the end of the year?"

Ben paused for only a fraction of a second. "I...uh...I don't see why not."

"Fine." Judge Norman scribbled on the papers. "Then I'm going to grant Mr Stone's application. Peter and Pamela Stone will reside with their father under the following conditions:

Number one, they remain educated at school here in Hartford.

Number two, Mr Stone will find suitable accommodation in Hartford to facilitate this.

Number three, both children have contact with the respondent, Ms Williams, at times, dates and locations to be agreed between both parties."

He looked at both of them.

"Now, we'll reconvene to review this matter on Thursday 23rd December at 9am. I understand that the school year should be over by then so, Mr Stone, please bring the children to court with you so that I may speak to them if required."

"Yes your honour," Ben agreed.

"Ms Williams...I suggest that between now and then you consider whether or not your relationship with Mr O'Reilly is worth potentially losing your children over. If, when we reconvene, they still wish to reside with their father and there is suitable accommodation for them to do so and suitable schooling available in New York City, then I see no reason why I shouldn't grant their father's application on a more permanent basis." He banged his gavel. "We're adjourned."

For a moment, Ben found himself rooted to the spot. He had won, actually won, albeit on a temporary basis...but he could go back to the school that afternoon and tell Peter and Pamela that they could stay with him. It was almost unbelievable...he had actually won...

"Mr Stone?" He turned to see Ms Cullen standing behind him. "Can I assume you will be residing at the same hotel until you've managed to find accommodation?"

"Uh...yes," he replied, the weight of what he had agreed to do suddenly pressing down on him. "It's the Times Inn."

"Fine," she nodded curtly, handing him a card. "Those are my details. If you would be good enough to contact me once you have accommodation so that my client knows where her children are living I would be grateful. In the meantime, perhaps we can agree on her seeing the children at some point later today with a view to working out a schedule?"

Ben glanced over her shoulder to see Laura watching him, devastation etched on her face. He could have almost felt sorry for her. Almost, but not quite. "She's welcome to come to the hotel tonight if she wants, depending on if the children want to see her or not." Ms Cullen nodded and then turned back to talk to Laura. Seizing the moment, Ben slid past them out of the courtroom, back through the building and into the fresh air.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was almost one o'clock. Three hours. Three hours until school broke up for the day. Three hours to try and start looking for someone for them to live.

Three hours to figure out how he was going to tell Evelyn.


	15. Chapter 15

**And the trial has begun...warning for depiction of rape.**

Evelyn took a sip of water before answering Jack's question. It was such a loaded question and she wasn't even sure she could fully articulate the answer.

"How did I feel...? I felt shocked...and devastated. Before that day, I had never thought that he would ever lift his hand to me." It was half an hour since she had started her direct examination. Jack had taken her through some of the background to her meeting Edward and marrying him and was only now starting to hone in on the finer details...the reason that they were all there after all.

"Did you consider leaving him at that time?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you?"

"We'd only been married six months and he was very apologetic afterwards, so I...convinced myself that it was a one-off and that I shouldn't throw everything away because of it. Biggest mistake of my life."

"Objection, move to strike," Adele said from the defence table.

"Sustained," Judge Callaghan replied. "The jury will disregard the witness's last remark."

Jack wandered over to the jury box and when he turned to face her again, Evelyn could read in his face that he wanted her to take it easy. "And did it happen again?"

"Yes, a few months later."

"Can you tell us what happened?"

"I don't remember the exact details of what led up to it, but we were in our apartment again, arguing, and he punched me in the face."

"And were you injured this time?"

"Yes, I had a black eye."

"Over the course of your marriage, did this pattern of behaviour continue?"

"Yes," Evelyn said. "Although sometimes there could be weeks, months between incidents. I would just have started thinking that it wouldn't happen again when it did."

"Did you tell anyone about what was happening to you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I wasn't sure that they would believe me."

"Why wouldn't they believe you?"

"My family liked Edward. They thought he was charming, witty, intelligent..." she paused. "He could certainly be all of those things when he wanted to be so I guess I assumed they would think that I was...exaggerating."

Jack frowned, "But did they never see your injuries?"

Evelyn looked down, "I would make up an excuse not to see them if I had any injuries, especially ones that couldn't be concealed with make-up, but a lot of the time, there wasn't anything visible."

"Your family never questioned the fact that you often didn't see them?"

She swallowed hard against the anger she still felt, reasonably or otherwise, "No."

Jack paused before speaking again. "Can you describe the events that took place on the evening of 24th December 1982?"

"Objection!" Adele got to her feet. "May we approach?" Evelyn watched as she and Jack made their way over to stand in front of the judge. "Your Honour, I wish to renew my objection to this portion of the witness's testimony. Prior to 1984 it was not considered a crime for a husband to forcibly compel his wife to have sex so long as they were living together, which is clearly the case here."

"Ms Diamond, we have already had this discussion," Judge Callaghan replied, his hand over the microphone so that the audience in the courtroom couldn't hear his response. Fortunately Evelyn could. "Mr McCoy quite rightly pointed out that the incident is relevant as to show a course of conduct in the defendant's behaviour pursuant to _People v Hamilton_. I've already ruled on this."

"Incorrectly, your Honour," Adele said.

"Step back," the judge insisted, lifting his hand from the microphone. "Objection overruled. The witness may answer the question."

Jack looked at her encouragingly. "Mrs Burns?"

Evelyn nodded. During prep, she and Jack had discussed the implications of the first rape technically falling during the time New York had had a marital rape exemption, but the Supreme Court were clear on when it could be admissible as part of a wider case and she was glad the judge had agreed. "Edward and I were at a Christmas Eve party at the Algonquin Hotel. I didn't really know anybody there and I had had a little too much to drink. Edward wasn't happy about the fact that I was drunk so he took me into a room adjacent to the penthouse suite where the party was being held."

"What kind of room?"

"It was a bedroom."

"And can you describe what happened there?"

"He threw me down onto the bed, berating me for being drunk. He told me that I was acting like a hooker and I said that he should have picked up a hooker if that's what he wanted." She glanced over to the defence table to see her husband watching her, his expression unreadable. "He pushed my dress up, got on top of me and forced himself inside me."

""You're saying that he raped you."

"Objection..." Adele said, without rising, "Counsel is testifying."

"Sustained," Judge Callaghan agreed.

"Did your husband rape you, Mrs Burns?"

"Objection..." Adele got to her feet this time. "Counsel is leading the witness."

"I'll rephrase the question," Jack said. "At that time, when your husband penetrated you...did you want him to?"

"No," Evelyn replied.

"Did you defend yourself?"

Evelyn paused, knowing that they jury were expecting to hear a tale of scratching, screaming and resisting and knowing she was going to leave them wanting. "No, I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I had had a lot to drink and...and I wasn't quite sure that I could believe it was really happening. When it was over, we went back to the party as if...as if nothing had happened."

Jack stepped back to the prosecution table and lifted some papers. "Over the course of your marriage to the defendant, was this the only occasion when he forced you to have sex with him when you didn't want to?"

Evelyn shook her head, "No."

"How many times did he force you to have sex with him over that time period?"

"I'm not sure, maybe five or six..."

"Objection..." Adele stood again. "Your Honour, there are only two charges of rape in the first degree on this indictment. The witness's testimony should be limited to the events that the District Attorney has seen fit to prosecute."

"Your Honour it's not unreasonable to suggest that in the course of a fifteen year marriage, there may have been other incidents..."

"Then the District Attorney should have libelled more charges. He didn't."

"Sustained," Judge Callaghan sighed. "Stick to your brief Mr McCoy."

"Well if we're sticking to the brief," Jack said acerbically, "Mrs Burns, can you describe the events that took place on the 17th of July 1986?"

Evelyn took a breath. "We had been out at dinner with friends. We'd both been drinking and when we got home we had an argument because Edward thought that I had been over familiar with one of his male friends. He grabbed my arm and I thought he was going to hit me so I ran away from him into the bedroom. I locked the door, but he broke it down." She paused, the memory as fresh as though it had happened only yesterday, the sounds of her own screaming and Edward's anger still there in her ear. "He grabbed me again and slapped me across the face. I tried to fight back but he managed to get me down onto the bed."

"What happened then?"

In that moment, she was almost glad that neither Ben nor her mother was there to hear the graphic truth. The violent rape. The one everyone expected.

"He was on top of me on the bed and he ripped my skirt. Then he forced my legs apart..." she broke off and took another breath. "I was trying to fight him off but he was too strong. He kept...slapping me and then he tore my underwear and penetrated me." She met Jack's gaze and saw him nod imperceptibly.

"How would you say that this incident differed from the one four years earlier?"

"It was more violent. Like I said, he was hitting me and I was fighting back...the first time, I couldn't."

"And how did you feel afterwards?"

She took another drink of water. "Worse than I had felt before. Previously...I think I had convinced myself that he hadn't actually raped me but this time...I felt humiliated, dirty, afraid...and I was in pain. I got into the shower and stayed there for...I don't know how long. When I got out, Edward had fallen asleep and...we never spoke about it again." She looked over at the defence table in time to see Edward look away. "After that, any time he wanted to have sex with me, I mostly just let him."

"Even if you didn't want to?"

"Yes."

"Objection, same reason as before," Adele said.

"Sustained. Move on Mr McCoy."

Jack paused again. "Mrs Burns, your husband is also charged with four counts of attempted rape. Do you recall those incidents?"

"Yes."

"Can you describe them for the court?"

Evelyn glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that the hands were moving close to one o'clock. She could sense the jury shifting restlessly and heard her own stomach growl with a hunger she hadn't realised she felt. Fortunately, Judge Callaghan appeared to recognise the same things.

"Given the hour, Mr McCoy, perhaps we should recess for lunch and continue this afternoon?"

"Fine your honour."

"Court is recessed until two pm," the judge banged his gavel.

Evelyn let out a long breath and returned Jack's reassuring smile. Given that she was still mid-testimony, it would be improper for either Jack or Claire to speak to her over the course of lunch and though she had no real way of getting in touch with him, she found herself desperate to hear Ben's voice. He would surely be finished at court himself and, despite her own situation, she was keen to know whether or not he had been successful. Lifting her purse, she stepped out of the witness box and crossed the floor to go out the main door, pushing past the reporters as she did so and hurrying down the stairs.

Outside in the fresh air, she took a deep breath, put her head down and hurried across the road to the local cafe. Inside, she saw the faces of many of her contemporaries, some of them choosing to ignore her, others staring at her as though she had walked in naked. It was the biggest trial of the week, she knew that, and she was the one who was on trial.

Ordering a salad to go, she hovered in the corner until it was ready, then hurried back outside into the biting wind before finding an isolated spot to eat, every mouthful only serving to remind her how truly alone she was.

XXXX

"Mrs Burns, before the court adjourned for lunch, I asked you if you recalled four incidents where your husband had attempted to rape you during the course of your marriage and you said that you could describe those incidents for the court."

"Yes."

"Please do so."

"Uh..." she thought back. "Two of them took place between the first two occasions where he raped me. Both took place in our apartment when Edward had been drinking. The first time, we were sitting together on the couch just...watching television and he started touching me. I knew what he wanted but I didn't feel like it, so I told him no."

"And what did he do?"

"He pushed me back into the couch and got on top of me. He told me that I was his wife and that he wanted to have sex with me. I...told him..." she paused and glanced at the jury. "I told him that I had my period and that we couldn't have sex that night but he persisted and started trying to unbutton my pants."

"And what did you do then?"

"I...I managed, somehow, to hit him in the groin with my knee and...he stopped." She looked again at the jury and saw one of the women in the far corner nodded slowly.

"And the second occasion?"

"It was, maybe, a year later? I was in the kitchen and he came up behind me. He put his arms around me and started kissing my neck. I didn't mind at first, but I had a...summer dress on and he started pushing it up over my waist and trying to get at my panties."

"Did you tell him no?"

"Yes," she nodded. "He said that he wanted it, wanted me and that I should give him what he wanted. He pressed me up against the counter and started fondling me...down below. I heard him unzip his pants and I said again that I didn't want to, but he was holding me so tightly that I didn't think I could move."

"What did you do?"

"I grabbed a plastic tray that was sitting on the counter and I managed to turn and hit him with it. He let me go at that point and called me a bitch...but he didn't touch me again that day."

"And the third incident?"

She paused again. "It was about six months before I left him. We were in bed and he made it clear that he wanted to have sex..."

"How so?"

"He was pressing up against me, touching me, trying to kiss me..." she shivered slightly at the memory. "As I said before, every other time he wanted sex after he raped me the second time I normally would just acquiesce..."

"Objection!"Adele said, in a tone of slight disbelief, "Your Honour..."

"Sustained," Judge Callaghan turned to look at her. "Mrs Burns, you're an attorney and you know I've already upheld two previous objections on this point. Please, stick to the incident in question."

"Yes," Evelyn said, "sorry...I..." She looked back at Jack who nodded encouragingly at her. "I had had my third miscarriage a month earlier and I wasn't feeling like having sex. I told Edward this and he rolled on top of me without saying anything and pinned me down on the mattress."

"And what happened then?"

"He tried to force my legs apart, but I said no and I told him that if he persisted then I was going to start screaming. He laughed and said that nobody would care...they'd just think we were having amazing sex..." she looked down again, feeling her cheeks redden. "He started pulling up my nightdress..."

"And what did you do?"

She raised her head again to meet Jack's gaze. "There was nothing else I could do so...I spat in his face." Again, a ripple went around the room. "He rolled off me, told me that I was disgusting and left me alone for the rest of the night." She ploughed on. "The last time was in August of this year at the Algonquin Hotel..."

"Objection!" Adele stood up. "This testimony is irrelevant."

"It's pertinent to the charge on the indictment," Jack replied.

"That charge is no longer before the jury," Adele said. "There's no need for any evidence to be led surrounding it."

"Sustained."

Jack shook his head. "Mrs Burns, when did you decide to leave your husband and effectively end your marriage?"

"I left in March of this year."

"After fifteen years of what sounds like horrendous abuse..."

"Objection!"

"Withdrawn." Jack paused. "Why did you decide to leave after all the time you had been together?"

Evelyn swallowed hard before speaking. "I had found out that I was pregnant for the fourth time in February and I obviously hoped that the pregnancy would be successful where the others hadn't been...I also hoped that Edward might be happy about it."

"And was he?"

"No."

"What happened when you told him you were pregnant?"

Evelyn looked across to see Edward duck his head. "He got very angry. He told me that he didn't want a baby, that he never had, that I should have known that and that he wanted me to have an abortion."

"And what did you say?"

"I said I wouldn't."

"And what did Edward do?"

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Despite everything, it was still the one incident, out of all of them, that upset her the most. "We were standing at the top of the stairs...arguing. He grabbed me by the arms and threw me down the stairs."

"What injuries did you sustain?" Jack asked softly, as a ripple went around the room..

"I had a fractured wrist, concussion, bruising to my side and abdomen and I had a miscarriage the following day." The tears blurred her vision and she dashed her hand across her eyes. "After that, I knew that I couldn't stay any longer. He had put me through so much already and now he'd killed my baby and...I was afraid that one day he would kill me too."

"Objection."

"Your Honour, the witness is entitled to talk about her state of mind at the time this happened," Jack said. "This particular assault charge is on the indictment."

"There are, however, no charges of infanticide nor attempted murder on the indictment," Adele replied. "The witness's wild speculation as to the cause of her, admittedly tragic, miscarriage or what might have happened had she stayed in the marriage cannot be taken as evidence."

"Sustained," Judge Callaghan replied. "The jury will disregard the witness's last remark."

Jack stepped close to the witness box and looked her in the eye. "After fifteen years of not telling your family or the police what was happening to you, why did you decide _now_ to press charges against your husband?"

Evelyn paused. At the time she had reported everything to Mike and Lennie she and Ben had been simply friends, albeit they had both wanted more. What really had motivated her that Sunday afternoon to tell the police everything that had happened, knowing that in all likelihood it would lead her to this moment?

"Because I had spent fifteen years being afraid...thinking that all I was worth was to be treated the way he had treated me...that that's what marriage was and...suddenly...I realised that I was worth more and...that it wasn't."

"Thank you," Jack said, smiling at her. "No more questions."

XXXX

"It was fine," Evelyn said in response to his question. "Easier than I thought it would be once we got going and over a lot faster. I thought I'd be going back tomorrow still on direct."

"You don't have to paint a rosy picture on my behalf," Ben said softly. "I know it can't have been as easy as you're making out."

"Honestly, it was fine," she replied. "It's tomorrow that's going to be the kicker. I'm sure Adele Diamond is just _relishing_ laying into me on cross. I know I probably would if I was her. But, forget that, I want to know what happened with you."

"Well...I got the kids."

"That's great!" she said with genuine enthusiasm. "God, I'm so pleased for you...for the three of you! What did the judge say?"

"That he didn't think Laura could provide the best environment for them given what happened at the weekend. It's only temporary though. We've to go back just before Christmas and look at it all again. He wants the kids to attend this time and he told Laura she needed to consider whether or not it was worth keeping Mark in her life."

"Right..." Evelyn said, her tone slightly more hesitant. "Ben, about Mark..."

"There's just one thing," he interrupted her, knowing he wanted it said as quickly as possible.

"What's that?"

"Well, the judge made it a condition of the order that the kids continue at school in Hartford, but he agreed with Laura's attorney that a roundtrip from the city and back every day wasn't in their best interests." He paused, almost hoping that she would catch his meaning and that he wouldn't actually have to say it.

"So, what does that mean?" she asked, dashing his hopes.

"Well..." he let out a long breath. "I had to agree to...uh...stay in Hartford until the next hearing." There was a silence at the other end of the phone. "Evelyn?"

"I'm here," she said finally. "That's...I mean...that's a lot for you to take on. Can you afford to stay in the hotel for the next three weeks?"

"I've actually been out looking at short term rentals this afternoon," he replied. "I haven't quite decided on somewhere yet, I need to take another look tomorrow, but I reckon I can find something that's affordable and suitable for the kids. I'll also need to see about getting somewhere larger in the city and check out the schools too, just in case the court makes the order permanent. Hopefully you can help me with that," he added. "After all, you'll be living with us too."

"Tomorrow," she echoed, ignoring the latter part of his statement.

"Yes."

"So...you'll need to be in Hartford tomorrow so that you can look at some more places, right?"

He paused, "I want to try and get something as quickly as possible. It's not fair on the kids to be living out of suitcases in the hotel, especially when they have homework and stuff..." he trailed off. "I'm sorry. You know how much I wish I could be there for you tomorrow..."

"It's fine," she said again, the breezy tone returning to her voice. "What's the worst that can happen, right? She calls me a liar, I say I'm telling the truth...it's pretty straightforward when you think about it."

"Evelyn..."

"Honestly Ben, it's fine."

"Look," he said, feeling terrible. "One day isn't going to make all that much difference up here and I should probably pick up some more stuff from the apartment anyway. I'll drop the kids at school in the morning and I'll come straight down. I might not be there before court starts but..."

"No, don't do that," she said hurriedly. "I'd...rather that you found somewhere for the kids. That's what's most important right now and you have the rest of the week to collect more of your things..." She took a breath. "I should probably go anyway and try to not think about tomorrow too much. I think I'm going to have a hot bath, put on some terrible talk show and then get an early night."

Ben sighed heavily. "I love you so much and I'm so proud of you for doing what you've done. I need you to know both those things."

"I know," she replied. "I love you too. We'll talk tomorrow, yeah?"

Before he could answer, the line went dead and all he could hear was the dial tone. Slowly, he replaced the receiver and stepped back from the phone. It wasn't fine, he knew it wasn't fine, no matter how many times she claimed it was or how upbeat she tried to sound. She was going through one of the worst experiences of her life and he was miles away when he should have been there for her.

At any other time...in any other circumstance...

Ben looked across the lobby to where Peter and Pamela were sitting, stony-faced, awaiting their mother's arrival. They had agreed to speak to her, in public, and only if he was in the immediate vicinity.

His children...his precious children. They had to come first. There was no other option. Making his way over to them, their faces lit up and he felt the warm glow of fatherhood that had become stronger and stronger over the past weeks, a feeling he wouldn't change for anything. He slid onto the couch next to Pamela and she scooted closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder as Peter started chattering about his game that upcoming weekend.

He would make it up to Evelyn.

She would understand.


	16. Chapter 16

**A few points about this chapter:**

 **1\. I've taken a lot of dramatic licence. A lot of what is asked in Evelyn's cross-examination probably wouldn't be allowed in reality, but then where's the drama in that?**

 **2\. I've always thought that L &O as a show portrayed defence attorneys in a pretty bad light most of the time, but having been one for over ten years, I can say that we are not all bad and are generally very nice people just doing a necessary and important job!**

3 **. This is the last chapter I'll be posting until next weekend as we are off on holiday for a few days next week and I'm not taking the laptop with me (though I probably will be thinking about this story!) I hope you can wait that long for the next chapter!**

 **Enjoy and have a good weekend!**

Adele rose from her chair like a cat unfurling itself from a siesta. She moved to the side of the defence table and took a step forwards, a fake smile playing on her lips. "Mrs Burns...do you love your husband?"

It wasn't the first question Evelyn had been expecting and she found herself momentarily taken aback. Glancing at Edward, she saw him watching her, his expression once again unreadable. God, if only she knew what was going on in his head...

"I..."

"It's hardly a difficult question. Do you love your husband?"

"No," she replied honestly.

"Did you ever love him?"

"Of course."

"When?"

"Objection..." Jack got to his feet. "I don't see the relevance here."

"Goes to the witness's state of mind during her marriage," Adele replied.

"I'll allow it," Judge Callaghan said. "Objection overruled, the witness will answer."

"When we first started dating," Evelyn replied, "and when we got married."

"What about during the intervening fifteen years between your marriage and your separation?"

Evelyn paused. "I loved him until...well...until I didn't."

"And was there a specific moment when you decided you no longer loved him?"

She looked at Edward again, almost fantasising that she could see the face of the young lawyer she had fallen so hard for all those years earlier. "I loved him for a long time...but after he continued to hit me and force me to have sex with him, my feelings towards him changed and...I stopped loving him."

"I see...yet you continued to try and build a family together? You've testified that you had four pregnancies and that even up until the last one, you hoped your husband would be happy about it, is that not so?"

"I wanted children. I don't see what's wrong with that."

Adele leaned against the jury box. "You wanted children with a man that you claim beat you and violently raped you? Doesn't that strike you as a little odd?"

"They would have been _my_ children..."

"But surely, if your husband was abusing you to the extent that you claim...you wouldn't want to bring a child, any child, into that kind of living environment."

"I guess I hoped that if we had a child, Edward would change."

"Or maybe you wanted a child because things weren't quite as bleak as you've painted them to be," Adele said.

Evelyn swallowed hard. "I've told the truth."

"Mmm hmm...the incident you referred to in the Algonquin Hotel on Christmas Eve 1982..." Adele clasped her hands in front of her. "You claim that your husband threw you onto a bed and had sex with you against your will, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And yet, by your own admission, you didn't scream or struggle."

"I'd been drinking," Evelyn said, "and I was shocked by what he was doing..."

"So shocked that you couldn't cry out? Couldn't fight him off?"

"I..."

"How much had you had to drink by the time this allegedly happened?"

"I'd had a few glasses of champagne..."

"And does that amount usually cause you to be unable to control your own body?"

"I didn't say that I couldn't control my own body, I said..."

"But you weren't that drunk, were you Mrs Burns?" Adele said. "You're clearly able to remember the incident in fairly significant detail."

"Yes..."

"You're not claiming that you blacked out or that you were unconscious, are you?"

"No..."

"Then why didn't you defend yourself?"

"Objection!" Jack got to his feet but Judge Callaghan waved him into silence.

"Mrs Burns?"

Evelyn took a breath, "I already told you that I couldn't."

"Or maybe you just didn't want to," Adele moved to stand in front of her. "You had had a few drinks, it was Christmas Eve, you were at a party...perhaps the thought of an illicit encounter with your husband in a room not ten feet away from the other people at the party excited you."

The mere suggestion made her want to laugh. "That's ridiculous!"

"No more ridiculous than your claim that you were raped in that room and yet did nothing to prevent it."

"Objection!" Jack leapt up again.

"Withdrawn...why didn't you tell someone at the party what had happened?"

"I was hardly going to come running out of the room screaming," Evelyn said.

"Why not? You claim that you had just been raped. Why didn't you seek help from people just in the other room?"

"Because...I was in shock. I didn't believe what had actually happened."

"Why didn't you call the police then?"

"For the same reason. I didn't..."

"You didn't believe what had actually happened," Adele finished for her. "Maybe you didn't tell anyone at the party or call the police because, in fact, nothing illegal had happened."

"Your Honour..." Jack rose again.

"Ms Diamond..."

"I'm not referring to my earlier objection, your honour, perhaps I didn't make myself clear..." Adele stepped forwards again. "Maybe you didn't tell anyone at the party or call the police, Mrs Burns, because you knew there was no reason to. Because you were fully aware that you had, in fact, had _consensual_ sex with your husband."

"No," Evelyn said firmly. "It wasn't consensual. He raped me."

"Well we only have your word for that."

Jack stood again. "Objection..."

"Withdrawn..." Adele wandered back to the defence table. "You also testified that your husband raped you in July 1986, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Did you report that incident to the police at that time?"

"No."

"And yet you claim that it was a very different attack from the first one."

"It was."

"You testified that on _this_ occasion, your husband was violent. He broke the door down, slapped you, threw you on the bed, forced your legs apart..."

"Yes."

"So, if that were true, you could be under no such illusions as you claim to have been under on the previous occasion, could you?"

Evelyn paused, "I don't understand..."

"You claim that on the previous occasion that you felt as though you couldn't believe your husband had raped you. If the level of violence you're describing on _this_ occasion is correct, you couldn't possibly have held the same belief, could you?"

"I suppose..."

"So, why didn't you contact the police?"

Evelyn looked down, "Because I was embarrassed and afraid. He'd hit me before, he'd raped me before...I was worried that if I said anything, it would make things worse."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Mrs Burns," Adele said, "but you are an eminently experienced criminal attorney, yes?"

"Yes," Evelyn replied, meeting her gaze again.

"You had your own job, made your own money and had a loving family of your own?"

"Yes..."

"You were not emotionally or financially dependent on your husband, were you?"

"I had a salary but most of it was paid into an account that was only in Edward's name."

"Just answer my question, please. Were you emotionally or financially dependent on your husband?"

"That's not..."

"That's not what, Mrs Burns? That's not relevant?"

"Objection!" Jack's expression was one of anger. "She's badgering the witness."

"Sustained."

"Yes, I had my own money," Evelyn said, "A little, but..."

"So if you didn't feel you could call the police, why didn't you just leave?"

It was the eternal question. One that she had asked her over and over again for so many years.

"I didn't feel able to."

"Oh, come on!" Adele tossed her head. "You've just said that you had your own money! You're intelligent, well-educated...you had no need to rely on your husband so, if he acted as you claim he acted, why didn't you leave him?"

Evelyn glared at her, "I've already told you, I didn't feel able to."

"Didn't feel able to, or had no reason to?"

"Objection..." Jack stood again. "Asked and answered."

"Sustained."

As Adele walked back over to the defence table again, Evelyn took the opportunity to take another drink of water, only to see that her hand shook when she lifted the glass. She could see support and encouragement on both Claire and Jack's faces and glancing at the jury she could see what looked like sympathy but...

"You claim, Mrs Burns, that your husband attempted to rape you on three other separate occasions, is that right?"

"Yes..." she replied, letting out a long breath.

"On one occasion he climbed on top of you on the couch, on another he pulled up your dress..."

"Yes."

"And on the third occasion, he pinned you down in bed."

"Yes."

Adele paused, "In the weeks, months and years between you marrying your husband and the first alleged rape in 1982, what sort of sex did you have with him?"

"Objection, relevance?" Jack shot up.

"Overruled," Judge Callaghan said. "The witness will answer."

"I'm not sure I understand the question," Evelyn said.

"You married my client in May of 1978, is that correct?" Adele asked, a touch of impatience in her tone.

"Yes, that's correct."

"And you claim that the first incident of rape occurred in December 1982?"

"Yes."

"So...for the four and a half years in between...what sort of sex did you have with your husband?"

Evelyn glanced at Jack, but all he could do was look back at her. She knew where Adele was going...knew what she wanted her to say and there was no way that she could avoid saying it. "We had...fairly normal sex."

"Define normal."

Evelyn opened her mouth to respond, when she was suddenly distracted by movement at the back of the courtroom. The door opened and a man slipped quietly inside. She watched as he hurriedly took a vacant seat near the back and though her confidence should have soared at the sight of him, in a strange way she almost felt it desert her.

Ben.

"Mrs Burns?"

As she continued to look at him, she saw him nod imperceptibly to her and she pulled her gaze away from him, resting it back on Adele's inquiring face. "Consensual," she said. "We had consensual sex."

"Can you describe it?"

She hesitated, "I'm not sure..."

"Well, did it happen in bed...?

"Yes."

"Only in bed?"

She took a breath. "No."

"Where else did you and your husband have this consensual sex, Mrs Burns?" Evelyn didn't say anything. "Isn't it true that you regularly enjoyed having sex with your husband in his office at work and in his car?" She glanced over atBen, wishing he had picked any moment but this one to show up and support her. "Mrs Burns?"

"Yes..." she replied finally. "We had sex in his office and in his car."

"Consensual sex."

"Yes."

"What about in your home? You testified that you had consensual sex in your bed, but did you have it anywhere else?"

Evelyn shifted uncomfortably, "Yes."

"Where?"

She chose not to look in his direction this time. "On the couch...in the shower..."

"In the kitchen?"

"Yes."

"Presumably you enjoyed this sex?"

"I suppose so."

"Well either you did or you didn't, which is it?"

"Yes," she sighed, "I enjoyed it."

"In fact...didn't you frequently initiate it yourself?"

She wanted to lie, wished with all her heart that she could, but knew that it was impossible. "Yes, sometimes."

"Were there not occasions when your husband would come home to find you waiting for him in a state of undress?" Adele looked down at some of the papers on the desk. "Didn't you surprise him one evening by cooking dinner in the kitchen naked?"

Her face flamed with embarrassment at the memory. At the time, it had seemed so innocuous but now... "Yes."

"And on that occasion, didn't you end up having sex on the kitchen counter?"

"Yes..."

"Didn't you tell your husband on that occasion, and others, that you wanted it hard and fast to make you scream? That you wanted it rough?"

"Objection!" Jack leapt up. "Your Honour, this line of questioning is completely inappropriate!"

"It is offered to show that Mrs Burns was no stranger to enthusiastic intercourse and indeed requested that relations be that way many times," Adele replied.

"Meaning what?" Jack spread his hands.

"Meaning that Mr Burns could not be in the wrong for providing what his wife wanted sexually and that it was not rape."

"Your Honour..."

Judge Callaghan held up his hand, "Overruled, but let's not stay too long on this Ms Diamond."

Adele turned back to her, "Mrs Burns?"

Evelyn looked at Edward, at his impassive expression. No doubt he had delighted in telling his attorney all the sordid details. No doubt he was enjoying every second of her discomfort now. Her gaze swivelled to Ben, almost hoping that he would get up and leave. But he didn't and she could only hope that he would understand.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I did say that."

"You said what?"

"I said that I wanted it rough."

"Thank you."

"But that was before..."

"Before what, Mrs Burns?" Adele asked.

"Before he raped me," she replied.

"I see...so between 1982 and 1986 you're saying that you never had enjoyable, enthusiastic, consensual sex with your husband? Not even once?"

"I...I'm not sure..."

"You're not sure...so after the first incident of you allegedly being raped by your husband, you _might_ have had consensual sex with him?"

"It was a long time ago."

"Yes, it was," Adele agreed, "and yet you can remember specific details about certain events that happened over that time period. Funny how you can't remember what I'm asking you."

"Objection!"

"Withdrawn...Mrs Burns do you know Brooke and Alan Bailey?"

A small smile started to play at the corner of Edward's mouth and she felt a sickening feeling starting inside. "Yes, they were friends of ours."

"And in the summer of 1984, did you and your husband spend a week with Mr and Mrs Bailey at their beach house in California?"

"Yes."

"Please describe the events of the evening of August 3rd 1984."

As she watched Jack and Claire skim through their notes at the prosecution table, she wanted to say, _don't bother...I never told you this...why in God's name would I have wanted to..._ Instead, she took a breath and looked at Adele again. "We had had dinner at a restaurant close to their house. Afterwards, we went back there to have a few drinks on the balcony."

"How much did you have to drink that night?"

"I don't remember, but it was a fair amount."

"Were you drunk?"

"Yes."

"But sober enough to be in control of your actions?"

"Yes."

"Did you and your husband have consensual sex that night?"

"Yes."

"And did that encounter become something of a running joke between yourselves and the Baileys'?"

She looked down, not really wanting to look at anyone, least of all her husband's attorney as she recounted the evening in question. "Yes, I suppose it did."

"Please tell the court why."

"Edward and I retired early...Brooke and Alan stayed on the balcony to have some more drinks and...our bedroom was next to the balcony..."

"And?"

"And...they heard us having sex."

"In fact, didn't they specifically hear you shouting and screaming?"

Evelyn ran a hand over her face. "Yes."

"I'm sorry Mrs Burns, I didn't hear you. Would you mind speaking up?"

"Yes," she said, meeting Adele's gaze.

"Were you being raped by your husband on that evening, Mrs Burns?"

"No."

"No...so, given you've testified about your fondness for enthusiastic intercourse in a wide variety of places, not to mention a previous history of loud sex where you knew others could hear you coming _after_ an incident that you _claim_ was rape...isn't it reasonable to assume that on the occasions you've described, your husband might have thought you would welcome his advances?"

Evelyn straightened her shoulders. "No, it isn't. I told him no on each of those occasions and I had to physically fight him off each time. If I hadn't..."

"If you hadn't, then you would simply have been engaging in the kind of sex that you and your husband were used to, isn't that correct?"

"No, if I hadn't, he would have raped me each of those times!"

"So you say."

Jack rose again, "Objection."

"Withdrawn." Adele sighed as though the whole encounter was boring her. "Twelve counts of assault. There are twelve counts of assault on this indictment and yet nobody but you witnessed any of them, isn't that correct?"

"They happened in our home," Evelyn said, "there was never anybody else around."

"How convenient for you."

"Objection!"

"Sustained."

"You testified that you would avoid your family if you had any injuries?"

"Yes."

"Yet you also testified that you often wouldn't have any injuries."

"Sometimes they weren't visible," Evelyn said. "They were under my clothes."

"Uh-huh...like what?"

"Mostly bruises."

"And you never once, not once, sought medical attention for any of these injuries, did you?"

"No..." she sighed.

Adele lifted some papers from the table again. "You testified that when you told your husband about your fourth pregnancy he told you he didn't want children, asked you to have an abortion and, when you refused, threw you down the stairs, do I have that right?"

Evelyn looked at Edward again and he looked away. "Yes, that's right."

"And you say that you had a fractured wrist, bruising and concussion and miscarried the following day."

"Yes."

"Presumably to have these injuries diagnosed you had to go to a hospital?"

"Yes," Evelyn said, "I was admitted when I started bleeding."

"And did you tell the doctors there how you came by these injuries?"

She paused, "No."

"Was your husband with you when you were admitted to hospital?"

"No."

"So...you were alone with the medical staff?"

"Yes."

"I see..." Adele peered at her, "So what did you tell them had happened?"

"I told them...I told them that I had been painting and fell off of a ladder," Evelyn replied, inwardly wincing at her own stupidity.

"Well why didn't you tell them the truth?"

"I told you before, I was afraid and I thought it would make things worse."

"But you left your husband only a few weeks later, isn't that correct?"

"Yes..."

"So you must have had it in your mind that you weren't going to stay any longer...why didn't you tell the truth?"

It was a perfectly legitimate question and one she knew that nobody who hadn't been in her situation would understand the answer to. In fact, she wasn't even sure she did anymore. "I don't know."

"Maybe it was because your husband hadn't done anything to you at all?"

"No, he did. I'm not lying."

"After you left your husband, did you leave his employ?"

"Yes, I knew I couldn't continue to work at the company."

"And you took a job at the District Attorney's office?"

"Yes."

"But you only worked there for some three months before moving to the public defenders' office, is that not so?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"Why so short a tenure?"

Evelyn paused, recalling her conversation with Adam and her reasons for resigning. How could she admit the real reason for leaving? It would simply play into Adele's depiction of her. And yet, she was under oath.

"I resigned."

"Really, why?"

"I...I felt that it wasn't the place for me..."

"Was that because you were sleeping with your boss, Executive Assistant District Attorney Ben Stone?"

"Objection, this has no relevance whatsoever!" Jack stood as a murmur went through the room.

"Sustained," Judge Callaghan agreed.

"Mrs Burns..." Adele looked at her almost pityingly. "Since you left your husband you've found someone to live, not one but two new jobs and started a new relationship, isn't that correct?"

"Yes," Evelyn said.

"That's very commendable. After suffering as much abuse as you claim to have endured at the hands of your husband, don't you find it odd that you're not more...damaged?"

Evelyn glanced at Ben again before meeting Adele's gaze again. "You have no idea how damaged I am."

Adele smiled, but it was without warmth, "I imagine that concocting fifteen years worth of lies could be very damaging."

"Objection!"

"Because that's what this all is, isn't it Mrs Burns? Lies! Lies that you have invented in order to paint your husband as black as you possibly can..."

"Your Honour..."

"Ms Diamond..."

"That is _not_ true," Evelyn said, "I have _never_ lied!"

"... so that you can try and claim as much money as you possibly can in your divorce, is that not true?"

"Ms Diamond!" Judge Callaghan banged his gavel.

"No," Evelyn glared at her, "That is _not_ true."

"The objection is sustained!" The judge glared at Adele. "Do you have any more relevant questions Ms Diamond?"

"No," Adele replied, shooting Evelyn a withering look, "No further questions." She walked back to the defence table and sat down.

"Any redirect Mr McCoy?"

Jack got to his feet again and hesitated before reply. "No, Your Honour."

"Fine, the witness may step down."

Evelyn let out a long breath and slowly got to her feet. Her legs felt like jelly...her head was swimming and she had to momentarily hold onto the edge of the box to steady herself before she could move. As she stepped down and started crossing the well of the court, she could feel every eye on her. Jack, Claire, Edward, Adele, twelve jurors, everyone else in the court...and Ben. As she made to pass him, he reached out and took her hand, following her as she walked to the door at the back of the court and pushed it open.

There were a million things she wanted to say to him. She wanted to thank him for coming, yet tell him she wished he hadn't. She wanted to explain that she wasn't the slut that Adele had tried to make her out to be, yet didn't feel as though she should need to. She wanted to scream at the unfairness of the whole thing, yet she craved silence.

"Evelyn..." he took hold of her arm and turned her towards him, only for her to find that his face was blurred by her tears. "You did it," he said, pulling her into him. "You did it. It's over."

She melted into him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, not caring who might see or what they might say. He was right in one sense and yet so wrong in another. "Is it?" she said, the tears flowing down her cheeks. "Somehow it feels as though it's just beginning."


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you for your patience! Had a great break away with the family and, to be honest, enjoyed not feeling the pressure I put myself under to write! But here I am, back at it!**

 **Enjoy :)**

"Well, what do you think?"

Ben watched his children expectantly as they looked around the apartment. It was four o'clock on Thursday afternoon and he had finally settled on a short term furnished rental not far from their school. It wasn't as big as his apartment in the city, but it had the coveted three bedrooms that would make it seem more like home for them and it was within the budget he had set for himself so, in reality, whether they liked it or not was really neither here nor there.

"It's small," Pamela observed.

"I like your apartment better," Peter said.

"I do too, but the judge said that we need to stay in Hartford just now so...this is it. You can both have your own bedrooms." He smiled as they darted across the room. "The one at the front is mine!" he called, before there could be any argument.

"Is Evelyn coming to stay?" Pamela asked, poking her head into both rooms and then seeming to settle on the one at the back.

"I hope so," he replied. "I'm sure she'll want to come up for Peter's game on Saturday."

"You mean you don't know?" Peter asked.

"Well...she's had a lot on her mind this week, but I'm guessing she won't want to miss it," Ben replied, hoping it was enough to satisfy them. Peter nodded acceptingly and went back into the room he had chosen, but Pamela peered at him curiously. Wandering over, he ruffled her hair. "You want this room?" She nodded. "Ok then."

"How long do we have to stay here?" she asked.

"At least until Christmas," he replied. "I have to go back to court and see what the judge says about whether or not you should both come and live with me full time." He paused. "Remember I said that he might want to hear from you too?"

"Yeah."

"Well...you and Peter need to do some thinking about that."

"What if...what if we decide we want to go back and stay with Mom?" Pamela asked, looking at the floor. "Would you be mad?"

"Of course not," Ben replied. "As long as that's what you wanted and as long as I knew that you would be safe." He watched as she turned and wandered back into the room, recalling their last meeting with Laura at the hotel. He had kept a respectful distance, but he could tell even without asking that it hadn't gone well. Peter and Pamela had sat pretty much in stony silence while their mother had tried to make conversation with them. Eventually, she had got to her feet, shot him a pained look across the lobby and then left. Neither of the children had divulged exactly what they had talked about and he hadn't wanted to pry.

"Mom doesn't think we'd be safe with Evelyn," Pamela said, suddenly turning back from the window.

"Really?" Ben asked, trying to keep his tone measured. "What made her say that?"

Pamela shrugged, "Because she got shot, I guess."

"She thinks that Evelyn's husband is going to hurt her and that we might get hurt too," Peter said, coming into his sister's room. "She said that we shouldn't ever be alone with her."

"Well that's your mom's opinion," Ben said, "but I can guarantee you that nothing is going to happen to you, whether you're with Evelyn or not." He fumed silently at Laura's blatant manipulation, not to mention her hypocrisy, and he thought back to two days earlier when he had last seen Evelyn.

 _"Somehow it feels as though it's just beginning,"_ she had said through tears as he had held her, briefly, before the reporters had started to swarm here, throwing questions at her as to how she had felt giving evidence and focusing on the crudeness of Diamond's cross examination. He had taken her back to his apartment and forced her to eat something, knowing that if he had hadn't, she would most likely have just crawled under the duvet and stayed there.

 _"I'm not a slut,"_ she had told him earnestly, _"you don't think I am, do you?"_

 _"Of course not,"_ he had tried to reassure her. _"The way you were with Edward before he raped you is completely normal and, as Jack tried to point out, completely irrelevant to what happened. You have nothing to feel embarrassed or ashamed about."_

He wasn't sure he had convinced her, but after staying with her for the rest of the afternoon he had soon needed to return to Hartford and had begged her to go with him. She had refused, saying that she needed to be there for the rest of the trial, needed to hear what else was going to be said about her. On that, she had been immovable. So all he had been able to do was kiss her goodbye and promise to call.

"When is the court case going to finish?" Peter asked.

"Hopefully tomorrow," Ben replied, pulling his mind back to the present moment. "The prosecution should be wrapping up their last witness around now and then closing the case."

"Is her husband going to give evidence?"

"Probably not. Tomorrow should just be closing arguments and then the jury can decide on their verdict."

"Will that take a long time?" Pamela asked.

"Well, there are a lot of charges," Ben said, "but hopefully not too long."

"So, this time tomorrow, it could be finished?" Peter queried.

"Exactly." Ben clapped his hands together, eager to move on from the subject. "But I think for now we should go back to the hotel, get our things and move in properly, don't you?" They both nodded and, as he steered them back out of the apartment, he couldn't help but think back on Evelyn's words again.

 _"Somehow it feels as though it's just beginning."_

XXXX

"Doctor Olivet..." Jack smiled at his last witness as the clock hands approached four pm. "How long has Evelyn Burns been your patient?"

"She started coming to see me in June of this year," Elizabeth replied.

"And how would you characterise her mental state at that time?"

Evelyn kept her gaze on Elizabeth and tried not to look at anyone else in the courtroom, though she knew that people were looking at her. She had chosen a seat halfway, not too near the front or the back. She didn't want to put herself on show, but neither did she want to hide away. From where she was sitting, she could see Edward, but he could only see her if he swivelled in his chair and, so far, he hadn't done that.

"At the time, Mrs Burns was exhibiting symptoms of depression and anxiety," Elizabeth replied. "She was fearful of her husband, yet often reluctant to discuss the details of what had taken place within their marriage. In some ways, she was in denial."

"Can you explain that?" Jack asked.

"On one occasion, I asked her if she had considered joining any groups set up to support battered women and she refused."

"Is that sort of behaviour common in victims of abuse?"

"Very common. Often the woman doesn't want to accept that she was a victim at all. She's afraid that doing so will make her seem weak when, in fact, being able to leave an abuser takes a great deal of strength indeed."

"What sort of therapy did you provide for her?"

"Mostly a safe space for her to talk about whatever feelings she was experiencing. Sometimes she would talk a lot, other times say very little."

"Is _that_ common behaviour?"

"Yes. Generally, women who are victims of domestic abuse have no-one to share their feelings and anxieties with. When they eventually break free and have that opportunity, they're often too afraid or too indoctrinated that they still feel unable to completely open up. They worry that things they say will find their way back to the abuser."

"Have you counselled many victims of domestic abuse?"

"Yes."

"And does every victim present in the same way?"

"No," Elizabeth said. "Some women are very tearful, others very stoic. There is no set behaviour in these circumstances. Every case is unique."

"And how would you say Mrs Burns presented?"

"Mostly, she presented as being very stoic, but it was clear that underneath there was, and still is, a lot of trauma."

"Thank you," Jack said, returning to the prosecution table. "Your witness."

"Doctor...is Mrs Burns still a patient of yours?" Adele asked, rising from her seat.

"She is still on my patient list, yes," Elizabeth replied.

"But when was the last time you actually saw her?"

Evelyn briefly met Elizabeth's gaze before the other woman answered and hoped fervently that there wasn't going to be a sudden revelation about an unlicensed firearm.

"I last saw her in September."

"But...we're now in December," Adele pointed out. "Are you saying that your therapy was so good that she was cured within three months?"

"No, there is still a lot of work to be done..."

"So, why did she stop coming to see you?"

Elizabeth paused. "That's a question you would have to ask Mrs Burns. As I said, she is still on my patient list and therapy has to be something the patient comes to willingly. It can't be forced."

"I see..." Adele paused. "Did Mrs Burns tell you why she had chosen to come and see you, instead of any other therapist?"

"I was recommended to her."

"By whom?"

Elizabeth paused again, "I believe it was her divorce attorney."

Adele cocked her head on one side, "And is it common for you to receive referrals in that way?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"Hmmm...during your sessions with Mrs Burns, did she tell you what had happened between herself and her husband?"

"She gave me a flavour of their relationship, yes."

"A flavour? So, she didn't sit and tell you in detail what had allegedly happened to her?"

"No, but..."

"Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"No," Elizabeth replied, meeting her gaze. "As I said, victims can present in many different ways. Some women find it incredibly difficult to talk about what has happened to them."

"Maybe because nothing happened to them?" Adele suggested.

"Objection!" Jack got to his feet.

"Withdrawn...you said that Mrs Burns was in denial about what had happened to her...that she refused your suggestion to attend a group for battered women. What did she actually say to you upon your suggestion?"

"She said that wasn't a battered wife."

"She said that she wasn't a battered wife," Adele repeated slowly.

"Yes, but..."

"Thank you Doctor. You've counselled many victims of domestic abuse, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And many rape victims?"

"Yes."

"How many would you say?"

"I couldn't put a figure..."

"Try."

Elizabeth sighed, "I've been a psychiatrist for over ten years so...I would have to say probably more than fifty."

"Uh huh...and of those fifty, Doctor, were all of them being honest with you about what had happened to them?"

"Objection...out with the scope of the witness's knowledge," Jack said.

"It's surely not unreasonable for the doctor to have at least formed an opinion on her patient's veracity," Adele replied.

"Sustained," Judge Callaghan ruled.

"Fine, I'll rephrase the question," Adele said. "Doctor, of the fifty or so victims of domestic abuse and or rape that you have counselled over the last ten years, to your knowledge, were all of them being truthful with you about what had happened to them?"

"To my knowledge, yes," Elizabeth replied.

"I see...so, to your knowledge, you have never counselled a so-called victim who was lying about her experiences?"

"To my knowledge, no."

"Then Doctor Olivet...if every victim presents differently, how on earth would you be able to tell if Mrs Burns was lying or not?"

"Objection."

"Overruled."

Elizabeth paused again, "I can only go by what my patients tell me."

"Indeed," Adele moved back to the defence table. "No further questions."

"Re-examination Mr McCoy?" Judge Callaghan asked.

Jack got to his feet. "Briefly, your honour. Doctor, when you met with Mrs Burns and saw her reaction to you, to therapy...in your professional opinion, was she faking her symptoms?"

"No," Elizabeth replied. "She wasn't."

"And when she told you that she wasn't a battered wife, what did you conclude at that point?"

"That she was clearly in denial about what had happened to her."

"Thank you, no further questions."

"You may step down Doctor Olivet," the judge said. "Given the hour, Mr McCoy, does the state plan to offer any further evidence?"

"No, your honour, the state rests," Jack replied.

He turned to Adele, "Ms Diamond?"

"My client wishes to give evidence on his own behalf," she replied. "But as your honour has pointed out the hour..."

"Yes, we'll adjourn until nine am tomorrow morning," Judge Callaghan banged his gavel.

Evelyn rose from her seat, unsure how she felt at the prosecution case being over with. She had no argument with how Jack had presented it and though he had told her he didn't think Edward would take the stand, she herself hadn't been surprised at Adele's announcement. Glancing at her husband out of the corner of her eye she knew he would relish the opportunity to perform for the jury.

"Are you all right?" Claire's voice brought her back into the present moment.

"Yes, I'm fine. You couldn't have done any more," she replied, turning to Jack. "Thank you."

"It's not over yet," he reminded her.

"I know."

"I'm looking forward to cross-examining your husband."

"You're not going to bring anything out about..." Evelyn lowered her voice, "...about the gun, are you?"

"There's no breach of bail charge on the indictment," Jack replied. "As much as I'd like to, I don't think it would help, especially having to explain why you were never charged." Evelyn nodded. "We've made a good case, Evelyn. Now I want you to go home, get some rest and tell yourself that it's all going to be over by this time tomorrow."

"Over," she echoed quickly. "Why does everyone think that this case is going to make any of it _over_?" They both stared at her and immediately, she regretted her words. "You're right," she said hurriedly. "I'm...just being sensitive."

"It's understandable," Claire said supportively. "I can't imagine how difficult this has all been for you."

"No you can't," Evelyn said and then again immediately regretted speaking. "I'm going to go, I'll...I'll see you in the morning." Before either of them could reply she hurried from the courtroom, pushing her way past the waiting reporters, down the stairs and out onto the courthouse steps where she paused and took a deep lungful of air.

"Evelyn?" she turned at the sound of her name and saw Elizabeth standing behind her. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she replied automatically. "Thank you for your testimony."

"It was the truth. I'm only sorry I couldn't do more." Elizabeth paused. "I know this maybe isn't the right time, but..."

"You want me to come back and see you," Evelyn finished for her.

"Yes, I do. I think all of this..." she gestured to the building behind her, "it's a lot to deal with on top of everything else."

Evelyn nodded, "You're right. In fact, I was already thinking about arranging an appointment with you and...perhaps bringing my mother with me." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "I don't know...I just think it might be easier to say certain things with someone else being there."

"Of course," Elizabeth said. "Call my office and we'll get it set up."

"Thank you," Evelyn replied. "Listen, I don't know if this is appropriate or not, but you did come to see me in the hospital and...well...if you were free..."

"Lizzie!"

They both turned in time to see Mike bound up the courthouse steps towards them. "Sorry I'm late." He kissed Elizabeth quickly on the cheek. "Hi Evelyn."

"Hello," she greeted him.

"How did it go today?" he asked, looking between them.

"Fine," Elizabeth replied.

"Good."

There was a slight moment of awkwardness before Evelyn spoke again, her unfinished suggestion to Elizabeth cast to the wind. "Well, I'd better get going. You two obviously have plans."

"Just dinner at Melon's," Elizabeth replied.

"Yeah, it's kind of an anniversary," Mike said, wincing slightly as Elizabeth elbowed him.

"That's lovely," Evelyn replied. "I hope you have a nice evening."

"Where's Ben?" Elizabeth asked as she turned to leave. "I thought he would have been here today?"

"He's...still in Hartford," Evelyn replied. "He was here on Tuesday but...well, with his kids and everything..."

"Of course."

"Well, goodnight then." Evelyn turned and hurried down the courthouse steps, over to the road and looked around for a cab. The wind whistled unforgivingly and she pulled her coat tighter around herself as she waited. A few moments later, she stuck her hand out and one slowed down next to her. As she gave the address and sat back in the seat, she caught sight of Mike and Elizabeth making their way along the street, deep in conversation, their arms around each other's backs and she felt a sudden terrible pang of loneliness.

XXXX

"Hi, you've reached Evelyn. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now..."

Ben hung up at the sound of her answering machine and quickly dialled the number for his own apartment. Five rings in and his own voice greeted him and he dropped the phone back into the cradle more forcefully than he had intended. When he turned back towards the living room, Peter and Pamela were looking at him over the back of the couch.

"Who are you calling?" Peter asked.

"Evelyn," he replied, sitting down in the chair. "But she wasn't there."

"Where is she?" Pamela asked.

"I don't know. Probably at her mother's. I'm sure she'll call when she gets home." He tried to focus on whatever television show the kids were watching, but most of it went straight over his head. They sat in silence for ten minutes until the phone suddenly rang and he leapt to his feet to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hey."

"Hey..." he said, relieved to hear her voice. "Is everything ok? I've been calling your apartment, and mine, all evening."

"Sorry," Evelyn replied. "I've only just got home."

Ben glanced at his watch and saw that it was coming up to eight-thirty. "From court? Where have you been?"

"I went for a few drinks."

"By yourself?" There was a brief moment of silence. "Evelyn?"

"Yes, by myself," she replied. "I didn't talk to anyone...I didn't look at anyone...I didn't have wild, passionate sex with anyone..."

"Evelyn..." he glanced back over towards the kids, though he knew they couldn't hear her.

"Sorry." She let out a long breath. "Jack closed the case."

"That's good. So...closing arguments tomorrow?"

"Not until Eddie's finished ripping me to shreds," she said bitterly. "Diamond's putting him on the stand."

"I see..."

"No doubt he's going to _love_ telling the jury about how much I enjoyed kinky sex and that I've fabricated this entire case just to screw him over..."

"He can say whatever he wants," Ben replied. "It doesn't change the fact of what he did and the jury are going to see right through him."

"Are they?" she asked, her voice quivering. "He's a good actor, Ben."

"Not that good."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too. Look, I'll come down in the morning, be with you at court and then, once it's over, I'll bring you back up here with me. The kids are dying to see you and Peter's desperate for you to be at his game on Saturday."

"You don't have to..."

"I _do_ have to," he insisted. "Now that we've got the apartment, I don't need to spend every waking minute in Hartford. As long as I'm here to take the kids to school in the morning and be here at night, I can be in the city with you. We'll need to potentially start looking at apartments there too and schools."

"Sure," she agreed, her voice flat.

"You get some rest, ok? I'll meet you at the courthouse as soon as I can get down there."

"Ok. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, I love you."

"You too."

He replaced the receiver and turned back to see the kids watching him again. "She's fine," he pre-empted them, "and I'll bring her back up with me tomorrow."

"So she'll be here for my game then?" Peter asked.

"Yep."

"Great," he turned back to the television.

Ben wandered into the kitchen, filled the kettle and, as it boiled, he thought about what she had said. She had gone for a few drinks...by herself. It wasn't that he doubted her fidelity, far from it, but he was reminded of a similar incident, some months earlier when she had gotten drunk after Edward had attacked her in the elevator and how she had tearfully asked him if she was just something to be grabbed, fucked and then discarded.

The kettle whistled and he lifted it off, pouring himself a coffee and resolving that the sooner they were back together on a full time basis, where he could keep an eye on her, the happier he would be.


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you for all the reviews.**

 **Cynthia, I meant to say that no offence was taken at all!**

 **Warning again for sexual content**

Court was almost in session and Ben still hadn't arrived. Not that she had expected him to be there on time given the drive down from Hartford and the inevitable morning traffic, but as she had taken her seat in the public gallery and watched Edward make his way down to the defence table, flanked by Adele, the pangs she had experienced the previous afternoon came back with a vengeance. Part of her was tempted to give the whole dog and pony show a miss and find the nearest bar to drown her sorrows in, but Claire's hand on her shoulder as she and Jack passed her on their way to the prosecution table kept Evelyn in her seat.

Talking to Ben on the phone the previous night hadn't helped much. She was looking forward to seeing him and spending time with him and the kids, but part of her couldn't help but wish that they could just be somewhere together, on their own, away from all the legal issues that seemed to be dominating both of them. Then she felt bad, wishing that Peter and Pamela weren't there. She had no right. They were his children and she had encouraged him to improve his relationship with them. It was unreasonable for her to turn around now and say she wanted him all to herself.

The court around her was filling up, much as it had done for her testimony and then tapered off, the interesting bits momentarily out of the way. It wasn't as fascinating for people to hear from the emergency room doctor who had treated her after her fourth miscarriage, or the owner of the repair company who had fixed the bedroom door, or their former neighbour who had given vague testimony about hearing screaming. Even Elizabeth hadn't generated as much interest as Evelyn had known Edward would.

She glanced over at her husband as he fixed his tie and smoothed down his hair. Adele was saying something to him, words she obviously couldn't hear, but knowing the man as she did, she could tell that he was nervous.

 _Maybe that's a good thing,_ she thought to herself, _maybe he'll trip himself up._

"All rise," the court officer called. "Court is now in session, the honourable Michael Callaghan presiding."

The crowd rose like a wave and then crashed back into their seats as the judge made his way onto the bench and the jury solemnly filed in. Once everyone was seated, the judge turned to Adele. "Ms Diamond?"

"Thank you Your Honour," she said. "The defence calls Edward Burns."

Evelyn watched as Edward rose from his seat, adjusted his jacket and then crossed the floor towards the witness box. As he turned and stepped inside, he fleetingly met her gaze and then looked away. The same court officer that had sworn her in moved over to him, Bible in hand. "Place your left hand on the Bible, raise your right hand. Do you swear that the testimony you shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

"I do," Edward replied and smoothly sat down, smiling at Adele as he did so.

"Mr Burns..." she began. "Do you consider yourself to be a rapist?"

A murmur went through the room at the directness of the question. Edward shook his head, "No, I don't."

"And yet we've heard testimony from your wife that during the course of your fifteen year marriage you forced her to have sex and tried to force her to have sex on several different occasions. How do you react to that?"

Edward paused before replying. "I feel sad that she's saying these things. I wish I understood why she feels she has to. Our marriage was nothing but loving and...adventurous."

Evelyn cast her eyes towards the jury who were watching Edward carefully, clearly intrigued by what he was saying.

"Can you explain that?" Adele asked.

He sighed heavily, as though every word was being uttered under protest. "When we first started dating, like any young couple, we were...well...very physical with each other. We had a lot of sex...not all of it vanilla, if you take my meaning."

"Objection," Jack said, "relevance?"

"Overruled."

"Would you mind elaborating?" Adele encouraged him.

"We didn't just have sex in bed as you might expect," Edward continued. "We were both busy people and we found...creative ways to keep the spark alive. We would regularly have sex in my office at work, in the car, various different places in our apartment...outdoors even. Evelyn was very keen on that sort of thing. She liked it. She enjoyed it..."

"Objection!"

"Sustained," Judge Callaghan agreed.

"Did this...creative intercourse continue into your marriage?" Adele asked.

"Yes, very much so."

"Who would instigate these encounters?"

"To be fair, I had a high sex drive," Edward replied, "but Evelyn did too. She would often wait for me, naked, if I had been working late. She would suggest different places that we could have sex...

"Objection..." Jack rose again. "This has all been covered in counsel's cross-examination of Mrs Burns. I don't think we need a rehash of facts that she has already accepted."

"So my client's thoughts on those facts are irrelevant?" Adele countered.

"Overruled."

"My point is," Edward said, "Evelyn was a willing participant on every one of those occasions."

 _God, he sounds so credible..._ Evelyn thought to herself as she continued to watch him.

"But we've heard testimony from your wife that there were occasions when she was _un_ willing," Adele said. "Specifically, an incident alleged to have taken place on Christmas Eve 1982?"

Edward sat back and shook his head slowly. "We were at a party at the Algonquin. It was Christmas, there was a lot of drink flowing and we had both had had quite a lot of champagne. Evelyn was horny, I was horny so..." he spread his hands... "we took the opportunity that presented itself."

Evelyn felt her cheeks burn but kept her gaze on her husband. His eyes moved slightly to his left towards the jury and a small smile played at the corner of his mouth as his gaze tracked something moving across the courtroom. Seconds later, Ben slid into the seat beside her and almost immediately, she felt a sense of relief surge through her as he clasped her hand in his.

"Took the opportunity to do what?" Adele asked.

"We had pretty incredible sex," Edward replied, with an embarrassed smile. "I know it's perhaps ungallant of me to say but, we both wanted it in that moment and there was a small room right next to the penthouse suite that had a bed in it..."

"So...you're saying that you and your wife had consensual sex at the hotel that night?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Then we went back to the party."

"How long did you stay?"

"A few more hours."

"And what was your wife's demeanour during this time?"

"She was drunk, but not incapable. She was talking to people we knew, laughing, enjoying herself...after the party finished we went home, went to bed and then had Christmas Day with our parents..." he spread his hands. "There was nothing odd about any of it."

"I see..."Adele mused. "Did your wife ever say anything to you about what had happened that night?"

"No, never. It was just...something that had happened that wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for us."

"She never said to you that she felt uncomfortable about what had happened or that she was of the opinion that you had forced yourself on her?"

"No."

"What about the second incident she referred to, in July 1986?"

Edward nodded. "We had been out for dinner that night with friends, as Evelyn said. We'd both been drinking and we _did_ have an argument when we got home because, yes, I thought she had been flirting inappropriately with one of our male friends."

"Can you describe the argument?"

"We were shouting at each other and, I'll admit, it got a little physical...on both sides. She slapped me and I...fended her off. I grabbed her by the wrists I think...we were both pretty drunk."

"And what happened?"

"Well...as usual, once the anger had calmed down a bit...the passion took over," Edward said. "We both badly wanted sex."

"But what about the testimony we've heard about the fact that your wife was trying to get away from you in the bedroom and that you broke down the bedroom door?"

"That's not what happened," Edward said. "We were leaning up against the door, having sex and...well...we weren't exactly being delicate with each other and...the door broke."

"Oh my God..." Evelyn whispered. "That is...that is not true..." Ben squeezed her hand and she turned to meet his gaze. "It's not true..."

"I know," he mouthed.

"Your wife claimed you threw her onto the bed and forcibly penetrated her."

"I'll admit that when the door broke, we both got a bit of a shock," Edward said, "I mean, you don't expect to break a door down during sex...but we were still both so incredibly drunk and horny that we just...went to the bed and carried on. We even laughed about it afterwards."

"So it was consensual sex on that occasion too?"

"Yes, very much so."

"What about the three incidents we heard testimony about where your wife claims you attempted to rape her?"

Edward shook his head, "To be honest, I'm struggling to remember what _incidents_ she's talking about. I mean, she wasn't able to give exact dates in her testimony and, as I've said, most of our sexual encounters were pretty hot and heavy...did we have sex on the couch? Yes. Did we have sex in the kitchen? Yes. Did we have sex in bed? Yes, of course. I..." he spread his hands again, almost helplessly. "We had a _lot_ of sex and, as far as I can recall, Evelyn always enjoyed it. She told me she liked it rough...she said that herself. I never raped her. I didn't have to."

Adele turned towards the jury and nodded slowly. "What about the violence? We've heard testimony from your wife that you regularly hit her."

"That's not true," Edward replied. "Not the way she's trying to make out."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, like I said before, sometimes our arguments got physical, a bit of pushing and shoving on both sides, that sort of thing, but I never lifted my hand to her the way she's saying I did."

"She said that on at least one occasion she had a black eye," Adele said.

"That never happened. I would never have done anything like that to her, never. I loved her very much...I still do." He met her gaze across the room and Evelyn felt her stomach turn over with nausea.

 _Love? He doesn't know the meaning of the word._

Adele turned and lifted some papers from the defence table. "Your wife had four miscarriages during the time you were together, is that correct?"

"Yes, in 1983, 1987, 1989 and earlier this year."

"That must have been difficult for both of you."

"It was," Edward replied morosely. "I know people talk about how it affects the woman and I understand that it does, but us men...we hurt too."

"So you wanted children?"

"Of course."

"But your wife testified that when she told you she was pregnant for the final time earlier this year, you threw her down the stairs causing her to sustain injuries and, in her mind at least, to miscarry. Did that happen?"

"Of course not," Edward replied, his expression pained. "I was devastated each and every time she lost a child. There is no way I would _ever_ have done anything to help cause it. This last time, I didn't know that she was pregnant. I had been working crazy hours on a high profile case and we really hadn't seen very much of each other. I came home and found her in bed with her arm in a sling."

"Did she tell you how she had come by her injury?"

"She told me that she had been up a ladder the previous day painting our spare room and that she had fallen off. She said that she thought she had been fine but then she had started bleeding and had gone to the hospital where...where they told her she was losing the baby." He wiped his hand across his eyes. "I admit, I was angry with her...for putting herself at risk by going up a ladder but..." he shook his head again. "All I wanted to do was comfort her. Instead, she walked out on me."

"Liar..." Evelyn growled under her breath as Ben squeezed her hand tighter.

"So, you didn't want the marriage to end?" Adele asked.

"Of course not," Edward replied. "I know that the miscarriages upset her, but we had always managed to work through them..." he took a breath. "I couldn't believe it when she told me that she wanted a divorce."

"So can you give any reason as to why she might be saying all these things about you?"

"I've no idea," he replied. "I can only assume that her divorce attorney told her..."

"Objection!" Jack leapt to his feet.

"Sustained," Judge Callaghan agreed.

"Thank you," Adele said, walking back to the defence table. "No further questions."

"Cross examination Mr McCoy?"

"Thank you Your Honour," Jack said, getting to his feet. He paused for a long moment, looking at some papers in his hand. Edward shifted slightly in his seat, his gaze flickering between Jack and the jury. "You loved your wife, Mr Burns?" he said finally.

"Yes."

"You never hit her?"

"Not the way she said I did."

"You never raped her?"

"No."

"You never attempted to rape her?"

"No."

"She enjoyed the sex that you had together?"

"Yes."

"Then please, would you explain to the court, from your perspective, why your marriage came to an end?"

Edward shook his head, "I really don't know."

"You really don't know."

"We were happy."

"That's not what your wife said in her evidence. She said that you hit her, raped her, attempted to rape her..."

"That's not true," Edward said. "None of those things happened, not the way she said they did."

"Not the way she said they did..." Jack paused. "You've used that phrase more than once in your evidence, haven't you?"

Edward looked confused, "Have I?"

"Yes, you have. By saying that, are you trying to answer the question without lying?"

"I don't know what you..."

"Isn't it true, Mr Burns, that prior to this trial commencing you pled guilty, on record, to two charges of assault involving your wife?"

"Objection!" Adele got to her feet.

"Counsel will approach," Judge Callaghan ordered.

"He's going to sustain the objection..." Ben murmured.

"Of course he is," Evelyn agreed miserably. "God forbid the jury hear what he's really like."

Judge Callaghan lifted his hand from the microphone. "The objection is sustained. The jury will disregard the last question."

Jack walked back over to the prosecution table, his expression thunderous. "What about the testimony we heard from Mr Collins, the gentleman who replaced your bedroom door?"

"What about it?" Edward shrugged.

"Well, you said that you broke the door whilst having sex with your wife, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Only Mr Collins testified that, in his experience, the damage to the door was most likely caused by someone kicking it forcefully."

"He's mistaken."

"Really?"

"Yes," Edward said, his expression hard. "He's mistaken."

"A man who fixes doors for a living...who sees damage to them every day...he's mistaken?"

"Yes, he is."

"I see...what about the testimony we heard from Doctor Parker, the emergency room doctor who treated your wife for her fourth miscarriage, which was that the injuries sustained were less likely to have come from falling from a ladder and more likely to have come from falling down the stairs?"

"Evelyn told me she fell from a ladder. She told the doctor she fell from a ladder."

"So the doctor is lying?"

"The doctor wasn't there. _I_ wasn't there."

"So the doctor is lying?"

"I'm not saying that she's lying about her interpretation of the injuries, Mr McCoy," Edward replied, "but even if Evelyn did _fall_ down the stairs...that doesn't prove that I had anything to do with it, does it?"

"I'll ask the questions if you don't mind," Jack replied.

"Fine," Edward shrugged. "Perhaps ask some relevant ones."

"Your Honour..." Jack turned to the bench.

"Mr Burns..."

"My apologies," Edward said. "It's just extremely painful to sit here and have these false accusations thrown at me."

"You've testified that sometimes the arguments you had with your wife would get physical?"

"Yes, sometimes they would."

"Who would strike the first blow?"

"I honestly can't remember."

"You can't remember?"

"No, I can't remember," Edward insisted."It was just part of how we were together."

"How you were? Do you think it's normal for a husband and wife to physically fight with each other?"

"I can't say what's generally accepted as _normal_...all I can say is what was normal for us."

"Mr Burns, is it not in fact the case that when you got angry you would take that anger out on your wife and you would hit her?"

"No."

"We heard testimony from Mrs Dexter, your neighbour, who said that on at least one occasion, she heard screaming coming from your apartment."

"We had noisy sex!" Edward laughed. "I'd be surprised if there _wasn't_ any screaming!"

"Didn't you, in fact, punch your wife in the face? Slap her across the face? Hit her on other parts of her body? Throw her onto the floor...?"

"No!"

"Didn't you twist her arms and pin her down and hurt her so that she would do or say whatever it was you wanted?"

"No, of course not!" Edward glared at Jack. "I told you, I _loved_ her!"

"And that was a lie, wasn't it?" Jack said. "You never loved her at all, did you?"

"Of course I did!"

"You spent your entire marriage trying to destroy her, didn't you?!"

"No!"

"You took pleasure in hitting her and forcing her to have sex with you and keeping her on a financial leash...!"

"What financial leash?!" Edward spat. "That's ridiculous!"

"Your wife testified that she was only able to keep a little of her own salary. That the rest was paid into an account in your name!"

"So?!"

"So, you wanted to control her in every way you possibly could, didn't you? Physically, financially, sexually...!"

"That is nonsense!"

"Objection!" Adele said.

"Overruled."

"Didn't you stop making the payments on the lease of her car after she left you?"

"I..." Edward paused. "That was..."

"That was what, Mr Burns? You stopped making the payments and you didn't bother to tell her, did you?"

"Well..."

"And the car was seized without her knowledge, isn't that true?"

Edward sighed, "Yes, that's true."

"Why would you do that? You say you loved her and you didn't want the marriage to end, so why would you do that?"

"Because I wanted her to come back."

"Wasn't it in fact because you could no longer, at that time, get to her physically and you wanted to show her that you were still in control of her?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Your wife had to attend therapy after she left you," Jack said. "We've heard testimony from Doctor Olivet to that effect."

"She didn't _have_ to attend therapy," Edward replied. "Her divorce attorney probably told her..."

"Move to strike."

"Sustained. The jury will disregard the witness's last remark."

"You drove her into therapy, Mr Burns, didn't you?" Jack said, moving closer to the witness box. "You abused her to the point that she couldn't take any more and when she finally found the strength to leave you, she had no option but to seek professional psychiatric help."

"I am _not_ responsible for..."

"Of course you are! You raped her at least twice! You tried to rape her on at least three other occasions! You beat her at least twelve times, possibly more!"

"Objection..."

"I did not...!"

"So you expect this court to believe that your wife has invented all of this? Put herself through the indignity of testifying in graphic detail about her sex life just to... what? Piss you off? Screw you over in your divorce?"

"Objection!"

"Mr McCoy..."

"I don't know why she's doing this..."

"Of course you do! It's because you brutalised her!"

"Your Honour..."

"Mr McCoy!"

Jack stepped back and took a breath. "You committed every crime your wife has testified about, Mr Burns, didn't you?"

"No..." Edward met his gaze coolly. "I didn't."

"You did...only you can't admit it, can you?"

"I can't admit it, because it never happened."

"So you say...no further questions."

"Re-examination Ms Diamond?"

"Thank you, your honour...Mr Burns, you said that you stopped making the payments on the lease of your wife's car after she left because you wanted her to come back to you?"

"Yes," Edward replied.

"Wouldn't there have been easier ways to try and do that?"

"Of course...but she wouldn't talk to me. I know it was an immature thing to do, but I really wasn't sure how else to try and get through to her."

"Understandable...and, during the course of your marriage, did your wife ever talk about seeing a psychiatrist?"

"No, never."

"Did you ever suggest she see a psychiatrist?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Edward shrugged, "She didn't need one."

"Thank you, no further questions."

"You may step down, Mr Burns," Judge Callaghan said.

"Thank you," Edward replied, getting to his feet and slowly making his way back across the courtroom. As he did so, he looked again in Evelyn's direction and she felt herself let out a breath that she hadn't even known she had been holding. He smiled gently at her and she couldn't help but think that were it not for the pressure of Ben's hand in hers she would have gotten to her feet and punched him in the face.

"The defence rests," Adele said.

"I think we'll take a short recess," Judge Callaghan said, glancing at the clock. "Closing arguments before lunch, counsellors?"

Jack and Adele both nodded.

"Fine. Court is in recess until eleven thirty."


	19. Chapter 19

**I struggled with this chapter because I was trying too hard to write convincing closing arguments for Jack and Adele. So, eventually, I decided simply to leave them out. I'm sure you can imagine for youself what they both might have said and, besides, it's the verdicts that count, right?**

 **Enjoy!**

"Are you sure you don't want some coffee?" Ben asked, looking up from the papers on his desk.

"I'm sure," Evelyn replied, in a tone of voice that indicated she was tired of him asking. "Besides, the coffee here is terrible. I can't believe that in the twenty or so years that you've worked here you've never done anything about it."

He looked at her over his glasses. "Such as what?"

"Such as talking to whoever is responsible for ordering the coffee and telling them to order something different!" She shook her head as though it were the obvious solution. "Anyway...anything interesting?"

"Not especially. Most of my cases have been given out to other ADA's. There are a couple of memos that I should probably act on but apart from that..."

"What's the longest time you've had to wait for a verdict?" She interrupted him, suddenly getting to her feet.

He paused, thinking back. "Thirty-six hours."

"Great..." she started pacing back and forth, her hand straying to her side, her brow furrowing with each step as though she were in pain.

"Is your wound hurting?"

"A little," she replied dismissively. "It's nothing."

He took off his glasses. "You should take it easy."

"I said it was nothing." She continued to pace, eventually letting out a long sigh. "How long do you think they're going to be?"

"I don't know," Ben replied honestly, glancing at his watch.

Jack and Adele had both given impassioned closing arguments once the court had resumed, then the judge had instructed the jury on the law before recessing for lunch. The jury had been forbidden from discussing the case until official deliberations had started at two o'clock, an hour ago.

"They've been out for an hour. If they don't decide within another two, three at the most, then they'll be sequestered for the weekend and..."

"Yes, I know how it works, thank you."

He didn't say anything.

She stopped pacing and closed her eyes, regret clouding her features. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I know you're only trying to help."

"It's ok."

"No, it isn't." She undid the buttons on her suit jacket. "Maybe I need some fresh air."

"I thought we agreed it was better to stay close by?"

"No, you said _let's go to my office_ and I just went along with you."

"Well if you want, we could go for a walk..." he suggested, getting to his feet.

"Honestly...I don't know what I want," she put her hands on her hips. "Well, actually I do. I want the phone to ring and for it to be the court saying that the jury is back with a unanimous verdict of guilty to all charges. Is that too much to ask?"

"No," he said diplomatically, coming around from behind his desk to stand in front of her. "Of course it isn't. I know it's hard, but you just need to be patient."

"I've never been very good at that," she admitted, smiling ruefully then holding his gaze for a long moment. "I'm glad you're here."

"I couldn't not be." He put his arms around her and gently pulled her into him, feeling her resist for a fraction of a second then acquiesce, her body relaxing at his touch. Gently, he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. "I know I've said it before...but I'm proud of you. I know it's been hard, but you've done the right thing."

She pulled back and looked up at him, her expression doubtful. "Surely doing the right thing would have been walking away from him the first time he ever laid hands on me, not...hanging around for another fifteen years to have it come to all this."

He smoothed her hair back from her face and kissed her lightly. "Hindsight's a wonderful thing."

"I guess."

He rested his forehead against hers and let out a long breath, trying to find the words to convey how he felt in that moment. "I've missed you like crazy," he settled on.

"I've missed you too."

The office door suddenly opened and Jack appeared, causing them to move apart like two teenagers caught in a compromising position.

"I'm sorry to interrupt."

"Any word?" Evelyn asked hopefully.

"No," he replied. "Not from the court and not from Diamond."

"She's confident then," Ben observed wryly.

"Well if she isn't, she's putting on a good show. How are you holding up?" He addressed Evelyn and she merely shrugged. "You did great. You said everything you could to convince the jury and, for what's it worth, I reckon they won't have been as impressed with Edward as he would like to think they would be."

"No? He stuck to his version of events...you weren't able to shake him on any of it."

"Maybe not, but the jury can't have failed to miss the arrogance of the man."

"Twenty-five years for arrogance? You just made new law counsellor," she said sarcastically, turning away.

Ben met Jack's gaze and shook his head, sublimely trying to convey a third party apology.

Jack nodded in understanding. "The minute I hear anything, I'll let you know," he said, stepping back out and closing the door behind him.

Once they were alone, Evelyn turned back around to face Ben and her shoulders slumped in defeat. "You don't have to say it," she said. "I know."

"I think, for today at least, you get a pass," he said, reaching for her again.

XXXX

In the end, it went down to the wire. Two and a half hours of sitting around Ben's office, of walking the halls, of finally giving in and partaking of the bitter coffee that burned her throat and did nothing to reassure or calm her. Two and a half hours of waiting to know if they thought she was a scheming liar.

When Jack had come back to Ben's office, Claire in tow, Evelyn had, at first, assumed that he was there to tell them that the jury were giving up for the night. She had steeled herself for that possibility, thought about how she would feel about it, how she would cope with it, whether or not she would be able to go with Ben to Hartford that night after all. So when he said that the jury were back with verdicts, she had found herself somewhat taken aback and unprepared.

Now, sitting back in the courtroom, she felt as though she could barely breathe, as though the air around was choking her and it was only the continual pressure of Ben's hand clasped around hers that was keeping her functional. She couldn't bear to look at Edward, seated as he was just to her left, and as the jury filed in, she looked at each one of them, trying to spot any clues as to what their verdicts might be. But as Judge Callaghan turned to them and the appointed foreman rose, she had to admit that if there were any telltale signs, she was missing them.

The piece of paper containing the verdicts was passed to the judge. He scanned it, his expression betraying nothing, then passed it back to the court officer who returned it to the foreman. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached verdicts in this case?"

"We have your Honour," a non-descript looking gentleman in his early fifties wearing a blazer replied, and for the briefest of seconds, Evelyn wondered why the others might have chosen him.

"Will the defendant please rise." She sensed, rather than saw, Edward and Adele get to their feet as Judge Callaghan lifted his pen. "On the first count of the indictment, assault in the first degree, how does the jury find?"

The piece of paper wavered slightly in the foreman's hand.

"We find the defendant not guilty."

"On the second count of the indictment, assault in the first degree, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant not guilty."

"On the third count of the indictment, assault in the first degree, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant not guilty."

Evelyn closed her eyes as her stomach contents rose violently. It was everything that she had feared. Her word against his and they had believed him. As the foreman answered not guilty to each one of the twelve assault charges, she felt Ben's hand squeeze hers in silent support and she prayed that she wouldn't vomit right there in the courtroom.

"On the thirteenth count of the indictment, attempted rape in the first degree, how does the jury find?"

The paper was steadier now, the foreman's confidence growing with each declaration.

"We find the defendant not guilty."

"On the fourteenth count of the indictment, attempted rape in the first degree, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant not guilty."

Evelyn looked over at her husband, stood at the defence table next to Adele. He was smiling, the same smile he had cast in her direction when he had walked from the witness box back to his seat, the same smile she had seen so many times over the last fifteen years. She took a breath, trying hard to fight the rising nausea as the final attempted rape charge also received a not guilty.

"On the sixteenth count of the indictment, rape in the first degree, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant not guilty."

She felt her vision begin to go hazy, a quiet buzzing noise started in her ears and she took another long, slow breath, hoping that she wouldn't slump off her chair into a faint. That would make great news, right alongside Edward's complete acquittal on all charges.

Judge Callaghan paused. "On the final count of the indictment, rape in the first degree, how does the jury find?"

The foreman looked down at the paper in his hand and paused imperceptibly. "We find the defendant guilty."

A collective gasp went around the room.

There were people talking to her...looking at her...Jack and Claire had both turned around in their seats and were smiling...Ben's arm was around her shoulder, pulling her into him, kissing her cheek and murmuring something in her ear...but none of it seemed to register. Around her the journalists got out of their seats and made their way towards the door to call their news desks and when she forced her gaze over towards the defence table she saw Edward slumped in his seat, Adele's hand on his shoulder.

"Did he say guilty?" she asked quietly, turning to look at Ben, her tongue having trouble getting around the words. "Guilty?"

"Yes!" he replied, smiling at her, as the jury began to file back out of the box, their civic duty complete.

"Which one was it?"

But her question was drowned out by the banging of Judge Callaghan's gavel. "Ms Diamond," he said, "I'm assuming that you'll be seeking bail to be continued until sentencing?"

"Yes your honour," Adele replied quietly, the wind seemingly taken out of her sails.

"Mr McCoy?"

"The people have no objection so long as the defendant surrenders his passport to the court," Jack replied.

"So ordered. We'll reconvene here for sentencing on...January 5th, but let me tell you this Mr Burns," Judge Callaghan glared down at Edward. "In light of these charges you can expect a hefty prison term. I hope you understand that." He banged his gavel again and the court was dismissed.

"Which one?" Evelyn asked again as a flurry of movement started around her. Chairs were scraped back, people were talking loudly, those she didn't even know were touching her on the shoulder in a show of solidarity. "Which rape was it?"

"What?" Ben asked, helping her to her feet.

"Which rape was it?" she asked again.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," she insisted as Jack and Claire approached them down the aisle. "Which rape was it?"

They exchanged glances.

"The one where he broke the door down," Claire replied.

"Of course," she said, "it would be the obvious one."

"Evelyn, it's a victory," Jack said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Rape one and two counts of assault one already admitted to? I'm going to push for consecutive sentences. He'll be lucky to be out by the time he's seventy."

She tried to share in their pleasure, tried to force herself to feel happy at the prospect of Edward going to jail for what he had done and yet...he was only going to jail on three counts. Three counts. Three counts out of so many, more even than the court had heard about. The jury had listened to what she had said and convinced themselves that only on one occasion had her husband actually broken the law.

There were reporters waiting in the rotunda, desperate for a comment from her, expecting her to say that she was gratified by the jury's decision, but she found that she couldn't say anything, positive or negative. Instead she pushed past them, leaving Jack to deliver the soundbite.

"Evelyn..." Ben said, taking her arm once they were outside, stopping her frenzied pace. "Evelyn, look at me." She swung around to face him. "This is a good result."

"Is it? That jury effectively said that if he's not being violent, if he's not breaking doors down to get at you, then it's not rape. And even if he _is_ being violent to you...well that's not a crime either."

"Juries are unpredictable, you know that. At the end of the day they concluded that what he did to you was wrong and that he should pay for it!"

"What he did to me _once_ , Ben. What about all the other times?" She shook her head, determined that she wasn't going to cry. She had wasted too many tears on the man already. "I thought that they would have seen..."

"I know...but it's over now..."

"No, it isn't over," she said angrily. "That son of a bitch owes me some answers."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about this!" she pulled open her coat and lifted her top to reveal the tail end of the scar. "I'm talking about what he knows about this! I'm talking about what he meant when he left that message on my machine! I'm talking about how he is responsible for me losing our baby!"

"Slow down..." Ben said, his expression marred with confusion. "I don't understand..."

"Can we go back to my place?" she sighed heavily. "I guess there's some things I need to tell you."

XXXX

It was a familiar feeling, finding out that she had kept things back from him, not told him the whole truth. It reminded him of the early days, before they had truly acknowledged their feelings for each other, when Mike had inadvertently told him what had happened at the precinct. As she explained about the message Edward had left on the machine and her discussion with the cops about how Mark could have been involved in the shooting, he felt himself grow angry.

"Why didn't you tell me all this?" he demanded, glaring down at where she was sitting on the edge of the couch.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't think that...you had a lot on your mind with the kids..."

"Evelyn, you said that he left the message just after you were shot..."

"Yes, but I didn't hear it until the day I came over here to check my mail."

"That was two weeks ago!"

"I know, but a lot has happened..."

"That is _not_ an excuse!" he snapped. "You should have told me about the message when you came back to my apartment that day and you should have called me after you talked to Briscoe and Logan!"

"And said what? That I suspected your ex-wife's boyfriend had acted as look out for the guy who shot me? Should I have said this in front of Peter and Pamela?" She cocked her head on one side. "What would you have said if I _had_ told you, Ben? Let me guess, you would have said that it was a ridiculous notion..."

"No, I would not, but I would have asked you why the hell you didn't tell the cops that he had called you the minute you heard the message! He broke his bail bond, again! You could have had him arrested!"

Evelyn sighed, "I realise that, but I wasn't overly keen to bring it up in case _he_ decided to bring up that I had previously waved an unlicensed gun at him! Not to mention the fact..." she broke off and looked away.

"Not to mention the fact what?" Ben pressed.

"If he knows something about the shooting then having him arrested for a violation of his bail bond wouldn't have exactly inspired him to hell now, would it?"

He had no immediate answer for that and all he could do was shake his head and sink down into the easy chair. The conclusion of the trial...Edward Burns being found guilty...that was supposed to have been the end of it...the epilogue to that part of her life and the first chapter of _their_ life. Instead, it seemed as though the two were destined to endlessly bleed one into the other. "What did the cops say?" he asked finally.

"They took the tape, but they said there were orders from the top not to talk to Eddie about it until after the trial," she replied.

"From who at the top?"

"I took it they meant Adam." She shrugged. "I guess he didn't want anything to potentially jeopardise the trial. If Diamond knew that there was a way Eddie might have been able to help...she might have tried to use it as leverage."

"Well the trial's over," he said, getting to his feet decisively. "So I am going to call Briscoe and tell him..."

"No!" Evelyn leapt up, wincing slightly as she did so. "Ben, this is not your case and it is most definitely not your place to do anything!"

"Don't be ridiculous! The first thing they can do is interview him about what he knows, not to mention update us on whether or not they found any connection between Mark and O'Reilly Limited and I can have a few choice words with Laura..."

"Ben, you can't go anywhere near this, you know that!"

"Why not?" He demanded. "I can _do_ something for you here, something useful!"

"Like what? Get the whole thing tossed out before it's even begun? Not only is there a possible connection between _your_ ex-wife and the people responsible, but you're my lover! Can you imagine what a defence, any defence, would make of all that? If there _is_ going to be a case, you can't prosecute it."

He paused, knowing that she was right and yet feeling impotent once again to do anything. He had done nothing for her while she was married to Edward, however unrealistic a regret that was...he had done nothing to prevent her being shot...he had done nothing to prevent her losing the baby...he had done nothing to prevent his children from living in an unstable environment...he had done nothing to ensure that Edward had been convicted of everything...he couldn't help but feel that if he were to look up the word 'useless' in the dictionary, he would see his own name right there as the definition.

"Ben?" she stepped towards him and put her arms around his waist. "I wish the fight was over, I really do...but it isn't. It won't be until someone is in jail for what happened to us that night and I still need you with me... _with_ me...not charging ahead like a white knight. The same way, I assume, that you need me with you for the kids."

He sighed heavily and tucked her hair behind her ear. "You're right. I guess we deserve each other."

"No," she said, stretching up to kiss him. "I prefer to think that we're lucky to have each other."

He caught her mouth with his, kissing her gently then more forcefully, feeling himself start to harden as she pressed herself tightly against him. It had only been two weeks and yet, in some ways, it felt like a lifetime. Her hand slid down his chest, over the waistband of his pants and between his legs, not even hesitating before lowering his fly and slipping inside.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, pulling back slightly and meeting her hazy gaze. "I know it's been a difficult day..."

"All I've been able to think about all week is the memory of that man on top of me," she interrupted him. "Even when I think back to the times before it all happened...to the times when it was...good...it just makes me feel dirty. I need you to take all that away."

"Now?" he queried.

"Now," she nodded. "Please."


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you to everyone taking the time to review!**

 **Ten days later**

"I'm going to be late!"

"Liz will understand."

"Maybe she will but at a hundred bucks an hour, I'm not sure I will!" Evelyn rooted around on the bedroom floor trying to locate her pants. "Plus, I don't exactly want to turn up looking like I've just had sex."

"As if she would be able to tell," Ben reasoned, reaching for her.

"She's a woman and a psychiatrist," she reminded him, finally locating her missing clothes underneath his hastily discarded shirt and moving out of his reach. "I'm pretty sure she'd be able to tell. Besides...we were meant to be looking at apartments, remember?"

"Your appointment isn't for another half hour and we're not meant to be viewing until four-thirty."

"No!"

"Fine..." he flopped back against the pillows in mock dramatic defeat. "But I would have been good for another shot, I'm telling you."

Evelyn grinned and tossed his shirt at him before leaving the bedroom and going into the bathroom to fix her face. Her cheeks were red, her hair wild around her head, her eyes bright...of course Liz would be able to tell if she gave in to Ben's desires and took a second tumble. It was all a dead giveaway. Opening the bathroom cabinet, she lifted her makeup bag and applied some fresh foundation, concealer and lipstick before dragging a brush through her hair. Finally satisfied, she stepped out in time to see Ben come out of the bedroom, buttoning his shirt. For a moment, she considered cancelling her appointment. An afternoon in bed was surely preferable to sitting in a psychiatrist's chair, but then she remembered the commitment she had made to herself to attend for therapy and knew that missing one appointment was only the start of the slippery slope.

"Are you _sure_ you won't stay?" he teased, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

"You're meant to be encouraging me to go not trying to persuade me not to," she reminded him, kissing him lightly. "Anyway, it's only an hour and then I'll meet you at the viewing."

"Ok," he released her. "Do you want to grab some dinner at _The Woo Lan_ before we hit the road back to Hartford?"

"Sure," she replied. "What time did you say to the kids that we would be back?"

"By nine at the latest. I'm trusting them to get their homework done and I left dinner for them so they won't starve."

"You're becoming quite the domesticated father," she teased, shrugging her coat on. "No wonder they don't want to go back to their mother."

"Well they say they don't, but a lot could change in the next three days."

"I doubt it," she blew him a kiss. "I'll see you later."

She shivered in the bitter wind when she stepped outside on to the street and as she made her way towards the main thoroughfare to grab a cab, flakes of snow started to lightly fall onto the ground in front of her, like icing sugar on a cake.

 _Maybe we'll get a white Christmas,_ she thought to herself as she scanned the road for a vacant cab. _That would be nice._ By the time she managed to hail one, she was grateful that he had the heating blasting inside and as she settled back in the seat for the short journey, she thought about everything that had happened over the last few days.

Edward was going to go to jail, of that she was sure and once she had gotten over what she still considered to be the jury's wilful blindness as to all the other charges, she had started to gain comfort from the thought. After all, it was a long time coming and no more than he deserved. The image of him in an orange jumpsuit, brought her more satisfaction than she could ever have thought possible and, on occasion, it even made her laugh, perhaps somewhat inappropriately.

Peter and Pamela were thriving in Ben's care. There was no sullenness, no worry, no concern on their faces and, she had to admit, that they were pretty fun to be around. She had watched their relationship with their father grow stronger and stronger over the preceding days and when they had told him that, despite the fact that they still loved their mother, they wanted to live with him on a full time basis, she had seen how happy that had made him and, in turn, made her.

And Ben...she really _didn't_ know what she had done to deserve him. He was so kind, so gentle, yet loved her so fiercely that it frequently took her breath away. All the anxiety that she had felt, all the doubt that Sarah had caused to creep into her mind, all the uncertainty she had experienced when he had proposed to her...it had all gradually faded away.

For the first time in a long time, she felt as though she could actually say that she was happy.

There was only one small niggle.

The cab drew up outside Elizabeth's office and as she paid the driver and then headed inside, she couldn't help her mind straying back to the one thing that remained unresolved.

The shooting.

Adele Diamond had been hampering the police investigation by blocking access to Edward, claiming that he knew nothing that could be of any assistance to them. Evelyn knew that Jack had told her about the tape but, for some reason, she still hadn't budged. As Jack had told her the last time they had spoken, without Edward's co-operation, they were going nowhere fast.

Elizabeth's secretary greeted her warmly and advised her that she was running five minutes late so Evelyn sank down into the couch and lifted a magazine. As she skimmed the contents, she found herself remembering the afternoon she had found herself here and how she had thrown herself into Ben's arms, all the time confessing to a felony.

"Evelyn?" Her reverie was broken by the sound of Elizabeth calling her name and, tossing the magazine back onto the desk, she stepped inside her office and took a seat on the couch. "You look frozen," she observed.

"It's starting to snow out there," Evelyn replied, shaking off her coat. "I was just thinking that we might get a white Christmas this year."

"Do you have plans for Christmas?"

"Well Ben and I are hoping to spend it here with the kids, but I guess it all depends on what happens at the court hearing on Thursday."

"Last week you said you thought things were looking positive there."

"They are, in fact both of them have said that they want to live with Ben full time and he's found schools that are able to take them both after the Christmas break," Evelyn said. "We're just still trying to find an apartment."

"What's causing the difficulty?" Elizabeth asked conversationally.

"It can be hard to agree," Evelyn admitted. "It needs to have at least three bedrooms, be close to the schools, be in a safe neighbourhood...just when Ben and I think we've found one, Peter and Pamela say that they don't like it for whatever reason."

"Do you think that could be because they're _not_ a hundred percent sure they want to live with their father?"

"No, they definitely do. I guess it's just teenagers," Evelyn shrugged. "Ben and I are viewing another one this afternoon so, fingers crossed."

Elizabeth nodded. "And how are things between you and Ben now that some more time has passed?"

"Great," Evelyn enthused. "Couldn't be better."

"You sound very sure."

"I am."

"The prospect of going from it just being the two of you to living full time with two teenagers must be...daunting though, no?"

"No, not really. I've been staying up in Hartford with them on and off and it's been fine."

"But how do you feel about becoming a de facto stepmother?"

"Fine," Evelyn replied brightly. "They're his kids and it's what they want..."

"What about what _you_ want?"

She paused, knowing that Elizabeth was simply doing her job, but finding herself slightly irritated by the question. "I want what they want," she replied simply. "I want to be with Ben and, if that means his children are part of that deal then, I'm fine with that. If the shoe was on the other foot and I was a single mother, I'd expect him to take on _my_ children."

"I suppose what I'm getting at..." Elizabeth said, shifting slightly in her seat, "is that you spent a long number of years doing what someone else wanted. Right now, I think it's important that you allow yourself to do what _you_ want."

Immediately, Sarah's words came flooding back.

 _Haven't you just left a marriage where you did and said everything your husband wanted you to do and say...?_

"But this _is_ what I want," Evelyn insisted.

"Ok," Elizabeth said, "I understand that. I know that Ben has been very supportive to you regarding what happened with Edward."

"Yes, he has."

"How are you finding the intimacy between you?"

Evelyn felt herself blush slightly, thinking back to only a few hours earlier when they had arrived at her apartment intending to simply sit down and have a coffee before her appointment and had, instead, ended up straight in bed. "Fine," she replied. "Good." Elizabeth nodded slowly. "I mean, it can be a little awkward if the kids are there but...we manage."

"Awkward in what way?"

"Well...you know, if they're in the next room or whatever then I find it a bit...well, awkward. I guess I worry that they might hear us," she shrugged.

"And that makes you uncomfortable?"

"Yes, because they're not my kids...not that I think it would make it any less uncomfortable if they were, I just mean that...well...a lot of things were said about me at the trial..."

"What sort of things?"

"You know...about me being loud and...enjoying sex, that sort of thing," Evelyn said, glancing at her watch.

"Does that prey on your mind when you're with Ben?" Elizabeth asked.

"Not when we're alone...I mean, not really...only sometimes..." she broke off, feeling her cheeks burn.

"There's nothing wrong with enjoying sex," Elizabeth said.

"The jury clearly thought there was," Evelyn said. "By finding him not guilty of most of the charges they were basically saying that because I enjoyed sex at one time with my husband, that nothing he did, bar breaking a door down, was rape." She sighed heavily. "I don't...I don't really want to go into this...I'm over the verdict, really I am. I'm happy. Really." She nodded curtly.

"Ok," Elizabeth said again, "then let's talk about something else."

XXXX

"I hope it's good news," Evelyn said, sitting down in the chair opposite Jack's desk.

When she had finished her session with Elizabeth and confirmed that she was due to bring her mother with her the following week, her secretary had advised that Ben had called to say Jack wanted to see them at the DA's office and that he would meet her there. In light of what they had talked about and her own thoughts on the shooting, Evelyn had felt her stomach turn over in nervous anticipation. Ben had been waiting for her at One Hogan Place and, as they had ridden the elevator together, silently holding hands, she had hoped and prayed that it would be good news.

"Well...it is and it isn't," Jack replied. "We've found a connection between Mark O'Reilly and O'Reilly Limited. The owner, Robert O'Reilly, is Mark's cousin. They grew up together in Hells Kitchen but we haven't been able to find any evidence that he called his cousin, or anyone else for that matter, to tell them that you were on your way back to the city that night."

"We checked the local usage details from the Trader Joe restaurant and there were no calls to the city that night," Claire said.

"What about from Laura's phone?" Ben asked.

Jack paused, "Judge Sanderson refused to grant the application to review them."

"What? That's ridiculous!" Ben exclaimed. "He lived at the house for God's sake!"

"I know, and she's wrong, but unfortunately, she ruled that there was no probable cause and that your ex-wife's privacy was more important." Jack looked at Evelyn. "Your husband is another story."

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"His attorney called to say that he _is_ now willing to talk to us regarding what he knows about the Lucchese family and how it might pertain to your shooting."

"But?"

"But...he wants a significant sentence reduction in exchange for the information."

Evelyn frowned, "How significant?"

"He wants five years on each count to be served concurrently, as opposed to at least ten years on each count served consecutively, which is what I wanted to push for."

"Five years instead of thirty," Claire clarified, somewhat pointlessly.

"He's dreaming," Ben said. "That's the minimum sentence on all three counts. Fair enough he's entitled to some discount on the two assault charges but he was convicted of rape one! He should serve the maximum!"

"There's no way that Judge Callaghan would give him twenty-five for the rape, Ben," Jack said, "you know that as well as I do. But I'm fairly confident that he would give him at least ten and five on the other two, possibly consecutively, so...twenty at the most...unless we deal."

"He needs to serve more than five years!" Evelyn exclaimed. "He assaulted me at the precinct, he almost killed me at the Algonquin and he brutally raped me in my own home!" Ben took her hand, but she pulled away. "If he only gets sentenced to five years then, with good behaviour, he would be out in, what, three? At the most? That's a joke!"

"I understand..." Jack said.

"No, you don't. None of you do!" Evelyn got to her feet, her previous good mood hastily evaporating. "You can say that you understand until you're blue in the face, it doesn't mean anything!"

"You're right," Jack said. "I don't understand how you feel and, hopefully, I never will. But without Edward's help, we have nothing to go on. There's no proper forensics, no proper eyewitnesses...nothing. He knows something. He might even know something about O'Reilly and how he ties into all this."

"So?"

"So...how badly do you want these people?"

XXXX

"You've barely said five words since we left Jack's office," Ben said as they waited for their order at the restaurant. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Evelyn replied quietly. "It's just...a lot to think about. I'm sorry, I should have shown more interest in the apartment."

"Screw the apartment," he replied, taking her hands across the table. "It looked fine to me. We'll have the kids take a look at it Thursday afternoon and that, I'm sure, will be that."

"What do you think I should do?" she asked, raising her eyes to meet his gaze. "Should I tell Jack to make the deal?"

Ben paused, "I'm not sure I can answer that for you."

"Thanks, that's a lot of help," she drew her hands back and sat back in her seat. "I want Edward to go to jail for as long as possible..."

"But?"

"But I want whoever was responsible for shooting me, for killing the baby...I want them to go to jail too." She shook her head, her eyes reddening. "It doesn't seem fair that I can't have both."

"It isn't fair," he agreed. "It isn't fair at all."

The waiter returned at that point with their food and he watched as she picked at her chicken, swirled the rice around the dish and ended up leaving most of it untouched. Every so often, she would pass her hand across her eyes and he knew that she was trying desperately not to cry.

"It's ok to be upset," he said, leaning across so that only she could hear him. "I don't mind."

"I know _you_ don't," she replied, casting her eyes around the restaurant, "I just don't want other people to see me crying."

"But you don't know anyone else here, do you?"

"No, but a lot of them might know me. My picture was in the paper, my face has been on TV...the woman who loved sex so much she cried rape." Her tone was bitter again...angry...in a way he hadn't heard of late.

"You know that isn't true," he tried to reason with her. "I've told you before..."

"I know," she cut him off. "I'm just being stupid, I know I am. Look..." she sighed heavily. "It might be better if I just stayed in the city tonight."

"Why?"

"Because I could use the time to think, on my own, then be able to call Jack in the morning and hopefully tell him what I want him to do."

"But...couldn't you do that in Hartford?"

"Please try to understand..." she looked at him earnestly. "This is such a huge thing for me and I just need to be by myself to think things through, that's all. Ben..." she took his hand again. "I love you and I know you love me. Please...please understand."

"Ok," he said, "if that's what you want then that's fine with me. I just want you to be ok."

"I will be," she smiled at him. "Thank you."

The cab ride back to her apartment was undertaken in relative silence, though she kept her hand in his for the entire journey. Once there, given the hour and the fact that Peter and Pamela were alone, he intended to simply collect his things and hit the road north. But Evelyn appeared to have other ideas. The moment they were inside, she pressed herself against him, kissing him, pulling his sweater up over his head and unfastening the buttons on his shirt. Given everything that had happened, and how he knew she was feeling, sense might have dictated that he dissuade her, but faced with her undressing hastily in front of him, sense kept silent.

"Are you sure you don't want to come back with me?" he asked as they disentangled themselves from each other afterwards.

"I'm sure," she replied, kissing him gently. "Honestly, it's better if I just take this time to think things through."

He got up from the couch, found his clothes and redressed in the dim light. "I'll call you when I get there."

"Ok," she followed him to the door, a blanket from the couch draped around her. "I love you so much Ben, you know that right?"

He pulled her gently into him and kissed her again, enjoying the feel of her curves against him again. "Of course I do and I love you too."

"And..." she paused slightly, "You know that I'm yours and that I always will be...right?"

Ben paused and pulled back slightly to look at her, "Of course...are you really sure that you're ok?"

"Yes, I'm sure," she replied, kissing him lightly. "I love you. Drive safely."

"I will," he said, giving her a final kiss and then stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind him. As he made his way down the stairs and outside to where he had left the car, he mulled her words over in his mind. She was right. He would never truly be able to understand what she had gone through or why she felt she needed the time alone to consider Jack's dilemma, but he had the rest of his life to help her leave all that behind her and he couldn't help but look forward to the challenge.

XXXX

It was a stupid idea, she knew that, and yet when it had come to her, sitting in the Chinese restaurant, it had seemed like the most rational and reasonable thing in the world. She had wanted to share it with Ben, after all that's what people in love were meant to do, but she knew that he would never understand, never. Perhaps that was why she had been so insistent that they make love again, to share _something_ with him.

As soon as he had left her apartment, she had quickly freshened up and changed her clothes before heading back out into the night to search for a cab. She found one with little difficulty and checking her watch, she figured that she could hopefully be there and back before Ben reached Hartford and called her. He wouldn't have to know. At least, not right away.

She shivered slightly, thinking about how angry, and hurt, he would be. It was the last thing in the world she wanted to do to him, but something told her that she _needed_ to do this, for herself if not for anyone else.

The traffic was heavy, particularly on the bridge, but once across, it started to move more freely and the cab pulled up at her destination just over forty minutes after picking her up. The building was quiet. Security had gone home for the night and she still remembered the code for the doors. Nobody had ever bothered to change it in all the years she had worked there. Any former employee could simply walk right in if they wanted to, any madman even. The elevator music hadn't changed either, that pathetic jazz that had irritated the hell out of her for years but yet, somehow now seemed quite soothing.

As the doors opened at the eighteenth floor, she was greeted with relative silence. Down the hall, she could hear a vacuum cleaner running and there were a few muted voices coming from some of the offices, but she knew that no-one would really care to think about someone uninvited coming onto their floor.

She knew he would be there. She didn't know how, but she just knew. He was a creature of habit in more ways than one and work had always been his sanctuary. His office was in the corner at the end of the hall and as she approached, she could see his lights blazing and hear him talking, dictating presumably, before she saw him, bent over papers sprawled across his desk.

She paused in the doorway, her heart beating wildly in her chest, suddenly very aware of how badly wrong her decision had been.

What the hell was she doing?

But it was too late to turn around now.

She took a breath and steeled herself for what was coming.

"You're lucky I don't have a gun this time," she said, feeling a perverse satisfaction at the look on Edward's face as he jumped at the sound of her voice. "I could have shot you right where you sit."


	21. Chapter 21

**Enjoy :)**

Edward recovered quickly, glancing behind her as though he expected a barrage of cops to follow her through the door. "What the hell do you want?"

"To talk," Evelyn replied evenly.

"About what?" he tossed down his pen. "About the fact that you're sending me to jail with all your fucking lies?"

"I didn't lie, Eddie. You know that as well as I do."

"Oh really?" he got out of his chair and came around his desk, causing her to automatically take a step back. "A bit of rough sex and you want to call it rape?"

"It _was_ rape."

He shook his head as though pitying her. "You tell yourself that if you want to. If it makes you feel better."

"You broke the door down..."

"So I got a bit carried away on _one_ occasion. I didn't rape you that night, Evelyn. I didn't rape you at the Algonquin and I sure as hell didn't try to rape you any other night we were together. You might have rolled your eyes a few times and pretended that you were tired, but you still opened your legs and, if I remember correctly, came every time."

"Right..." she nodded, "and you didn't ever hit me either, did you?"

"The jury didn't seem to think so," he reminded her. "I've accepted what I did at the mayor's dinner and at the precinct that afternoon and I'm not proud of it. But as far as the rest of it goes, the only person who looked foolish in court was you."

Evelyn bit her tongue, wanting desperately to scream and shout at him, to claw at his face, to give him a little taste of what she had endured. But that wasn't why she was there and it would do her cause no good whatsoever to lose control now. "That isn't what I came here to talk about."

"Then what do you want?" he asked again, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at her. "If you're trying to entrap me into some sort of bail bond violation..."

"I'm not. I want...I want you to help the cops find who shot me."

Edward blinked. "My lawyer already told the DA that I was prepared to help with that."

"Yeah, but only if you get a deal out of it for yourself," Evelyn said, walking over to the couch in the corner of the room and sitting down, trying to appear relaxed even though her insides were churning with anxiety. "Five years...for three felonies? McCoy's pushing for twenty, at least."

"He'll never get it."

"He thinks he will." She took a breath. "But he's left it up to me."

"He's left what up to you?" Edward frowned.

"The decision on whether or not to accept your deal. He's left it up to me to decide. If I say yes, then he'll take the information you have and agree to five years. If I say no, he'll ask for twenty and, like I said, he thinks he'll get it."

"So...what? You want me to try and persuade you to accept the deal?"

"No," she said. "I want to propose a new deal. I want you to agree to tell the cops what you know and I'll persuade Jack to take ten years."

Edward laughed, "You want me to give up the information _and_ take more years in jail? Forget it."

"Five years isn't long enough, Eddie, not by a long shot. I'd rather never know who did it than agree to that and if I don't agree to it, you're looking at twenty." She regarded him carefully, wondering if he could hear how wildly her heart was beating in her chest. "So, what do you think?"

He studied her for a long moment. "I think you're full of shit, that's what I think. You really think I give a rat's ass who shot you? I'm only sorry they didn't do a better job, then I wouldn't have had to face the indignity of a trial or spend _any_ time in jail. You've got more invested in finding out who killed your bastard than I have."

Evelyn blanched at his words. "How did you...?"

"What, know that you were pregnant? Someone told me. After the fact, I should say. It certainly didn't take you long, did it?"

"You left a message on my machine..." she said, her voice shaking slightly, deliberately ignoring his insinution. "You told me that you were sorry..."

"Maybe I was, then. That was before I had to sit and listen to all of your lies..."

"I didn't lie!" she exclaimed, getting to her feet, going against her own vow to stay in control.

"No?" he advanced towards her. "Don't say you don't remember what it was like fucking on that very couch."

"That was a long time ago..."

"You loved it, you know you did. You got a real kick out of doing it right here and not knowing if someone was going to walk in and see you astride me, wet and slippery, my hands around your waist, my mouth on your breasts..."

"This was a huge mistake," she said, pushing past him towards the door. "I was wrong to think that you might actually want to take responsibility for something. That you might have decency lurking beneath all that...misogyny...that you might actually have been telling the truth in court when you said you still loved me!"

"I _do_ still love you," Edward replied. "You might be a lying bitch, but, somehow, I still love you. This deal you want..." she paused at the door. "How badly do you want it?"

She turned back to face him, "What do you mean?" He raised his eyebrows, gestured to the couch and then spread his hands. Nausea rose in her stomach. "You're disgusting."

"It's not as if you haven't done it before. You might even enjoy it. I can't imagine that uptight asshole Stone can give you as good a ride as I could. I bet when you worked together you weren't constantly damp in those panties of yours thinking about him. I bet you don't scream his name in bed the way you used to scream mine..."

The mere mention of Ben's name only served to convince her what a terrible idea it had all been. She should have gone with him to Hartford after all. She should never have allowed herself to give her husband any headspace. She knew he was enjoying tormenting her, playing on the one insecurity she had about their whole time together, the fact that, at one time, she had enjoyed him as much as he had enjoyed her.

"He's twice the man you'll ever be. And he doesn't have to force me...ever." His smile faded slightly and, for the briefest of moments, she almost felt sorry for him. "What happened to you, Eddie?" she asked softly. "What happened to the handsome, idealistic young lawyer I met on my first day here? What happened to the man who swept me off my feet with endless promises? What was it that turned you into...a monster?" He looked away. "Your parents were good people, they raised you well, they loved you..."

"Well I guess it's a good thing they aren't here to see all this now, isn't it? They liked you a lot. I'm sure they wouldn't understand why you've done this."

Evelyn sighed, realising she was getting nowhere and yet willing to give it one more try. "That day at the precinct...I admit, I might have provoked you into grabbing me." He raised his eyebrows. "But before the whole conversation descended into chaos, I think you genuinely wanted to tell me about the Luccheses'...about the hold they had over you...us..." She paused. "All I'm asking is for you to finish what you started."

He didn't say anything for a long moment, simply turned and walked over to the window, the city lights bright against the inky sky. "What I was telling you that day was true," he said finally. "They _do_ have a hold over most of our assets."

"What about the money you were able to pass to me?"

"It came from our joint savings account, perfectly legitimately. They hadn't managed to get their hands on it so I felt it was best to move it as quickly as possible."

"And the apartment?"

"I wasn't lying about that," he turned back to face her. "I re-mortgaged in order to cover the amounts they were demanding from me. The house in Sag Harbor too. I haven't been able to make the payments. The bank took the Sag Harbor house a few weeks ago and it won't be long before they come after the apartment."

Mindful that it had been at this point previously when he had blown up at her, Evelyn chose her next words as carefully as she could. "Why didn't you go to the police and tell them that you were being threatened?"

"Because then I would have had to have told them about the extra money they paid me after the court case when I got Amuso's nephew acquitted. It would look like a pay off and I could have been in trouble with the IRS. Not to mention..." he trailed off.

"Not to mention what?"

He shook his head, "It's probably best that you don't know."

She wanted to ask more, was desperate to and yet, something in his expression made her accept his word. "Was it worth it?" she chose to ask instead.

He made a face, "Hindsight is a wonderful thing."

The words resonated, not least of all because they were the very words Ben had used when she had lamented remaining in her marriage for so long. "Eddie..."

"I guess there's cold comfort in knowing I'm not the only one they've done this to. I'm sure the DA's office would love to know the gory details about Patrick Lehrman and Philip Bosco too, though I'd be violating attorney-client privilege regarding Bosco...but seeing as someone got themselves killed for him and the fact that I'm going to jail anyway...maybe it's worth the potential lawsuit."

"Killed?" she paused, a light suddenly dawning. "Michael Richmond?"

"Let's just say it wasn't a suicide."

Evelyn moved to stand in front of him, "Eddie, please... _please_ talk to the cops, talk to the DA...tell them what you know about all of this. You know it's the right thing to do, even if you don't want to help me. Otherwise, these people just get to go on and on doing this!" He reached out and touched her cheek with his hand, his thumb trailing down over her lower lip. She trembled slightly, worried what he might do next, wanting to pull away from him and yet knowing that if she was ever close to persuading him, it was now. "Please," she whispered.

"I didn't mean it when I said I didn't care about you being shot," he said quietly. "I did care, very much. I do still love you, Evelyn...but ten years..." his eyes danced over her face.

"It's ten, or it's twenty," she said, her voice shaking again. "I'll never agree to five. Nothing you can say...or do...is going to change that."

"And you're in control..." he nodded.

"Yes. This time I am." She fought against her instincts and reached out to touch the hair at his temple, her fingers flitting down the side of his face. He caught her hand in his, turned her palm towards him and kissed it. Her body shuddered involuntarily as his arm went around her waist and he pulled her tightly against him, his mouth instinctively finding hers. She screwed her eyes shut, desperate for it to be over, yet knowing that a few moments of discomfort could give her what she wanted. His tongue slid between her teeth to find hers, his free hand cupping her face then trailing down her body to her breasts. Ashamedly, her nipples hardened as her mind screamed at her to stop and just as she was about to pull herself back from him, to her surprise he broke free and pushed her away.

"Better to stop," he said, slightly breathlessly. "No matter how much I know you still want me I'm sure you'd be able to spin it to your advantage."

"I don't want..." she started, resisting the temptation to wipe her face and spit away his saliva.

"Ten years?"

"Yes."

"Fine. You've got your deal." He turned back to his desk as though nothing had happened. "I'll call my lawyer first thing in the morning and have her talk to McCoy."

"You...you will?" she stammered as he nodded. "Why?"

"Because maybe I'm prepared to be the bigger person here," he replied, sitting back down into his chair. "Besides, what's ten years? It's not as if we'll never see each other again."

She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. "Thank you."

His gaze burned into hers and, for a moment, she could see the man he had once been, sitting at that same desk, looking her up and down as she had stood in front of him, shamelessly flirting and imagining all sorts of erotic encounters, just like the one he had described. He smiled slightly, as though reading her mind, then grew sombre again. "Get the fuck out of my office."

She nodded, pulling herself back to reality. "Gladly." Without hesitating further, she made her way hurriedly back along the corridor to the elevator, punching the lit button three or four times in the hope that it would speed up the process. She kept glancing back over her shoulder, waiting for him to come thundering after her, declaring that he had made a mistake and that, not only was he not going to help her, but that he was going to have her too. But the corridor remained deserted.

Traffic was lighter on the way back across the bridge but when she got back into her apartment, the light on her machine was blinking and Ben's voice filled the room.

 _"It's only me. I'm back in Hartford and...uh...the kids send you their love. They miss you...I do too. I hope you're ok. Call me when you get this. I love you."_

"You've done nothing wrong," she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she scrubbed away her make-up, brushed her teeth and changed out of her clothes into her pyjamas, tossing the offending articles into the wash basket. "You did what you had to do...you've done nothing wrong." Finally satisfied, or at least as satisfied as she could be, she lifted the phone and dialled the Hartford number. "Hi," she greeted Ben brightly when he answered. "Sorry, I was in the bathroom."

"Are you ok?" he asked. "I've been worried ever since I left you."

"I'm fine," she reassured him. "Really I am. I miss you though. Pretty badly in fact."

"I miss you too."

"I'm going to drive up first thing tomorrow once I've spoken to Jack," she said. "Then we can stay up there until the hearing on Thursday and bring the kids down to see that apartment."

"You liked it then?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Have you decided what you're going to say to Jack when you talk to him?"

She paused, knowing it was going to be more a case of what Jack was going to say to her and while her husband's change of heart might surprise a few people, no-one would need ever know the part she had played in persuading him. "Yes," she replied finally. "Yes, I think I have."

XXXX

To her surprise, she slept well that night. After she had hung up the phone, she had made herself some hot chocolate and sat down to watch a late night talk show, only to find her eyelids starting to droop within the first few minutes. She had climbed into bed, pulled the duvet around herself and been convinced that she would toss and turn until the early hours when, in fact, she had woken with a start just after eight o'clock.

She forced herself to eat some breakfast, drink coffee and listen to the radio. Then she showered, dried her hair, packed a bag for the next few days in Hartford and started staring at the phone. Nine o'clock came and went as did nine-thirty. By ten she was starting to get restless, but a phone call to Edward's direct line resulted in no answer. Ben called at ten-fifteen and she told him that she would hopefully be on the road within the next half hour and be with him in time for lunch. At ten-thirty, she called Jack's office, only to be told by his secretary that he was on the phone. Ten minutes later, she called again to receive the same response.

Restlessly, she paced around the living room wondering what the hell was taking Edward so long. Even if Adele Diamond had tried to talk him out of what he had agreed to do, she surely would have made the call for him by now? Unless...she stopped pacing...unless he had changed his mind overnight or maybe...maybe he had never had any intention of taking the deal.

 _No,_ she told herself. _I know him. I saw the look in his eyes. He was telling me the truth, I know he was._

Five minutes later, the phone rang and she grabbed for it like a woman possessed. "Hello?"

"Evelyn, it's Jack."

"About time!"

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. "You called earlier?"

"Yes, I...well..." she paused herself, waiting for him to deliver the news. "Have you heard anything?"

"From who?"

"From...well, from Eddie's lawyer."

"No," Jack replied, "Was I supposed to? I thought you were going to call me with what you had decided?"

 _That bastard...that complete and utter bastard. Once again he has fucked me right over...!_

"Evelyn? You still there?"

"Yes."

"Did you make your decision?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice shaking slightly. "Tell the bastard there's no deal. Tell him he's getting twenty _minimum_. Tell him I hope he rots in Hell."

"You're sure?" Jack clarified.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," she said. "I hope he gets everything he deserves." Before Jack could say anything more, she slammed the receiver back down into the cradle, grabbed her bag and headed out, slamming the apartment door behind her. She cursed Edward with every step it took to get down the stairs and outside onto the street and she turned to where she had left her car, purposefully not looking at the spot where, mere months earlier, she had fallen, her blood spilling onto the concrete. "Asshole, bastard, cock-sucking..." she muttered under her breath as she wrenched open the door and tossed her bag into the back seat. Slamming it shut again, she took a breath and tried to bring herself back under control.

"Evelyn Burns?"

The sound of her name startled her and she turned quickly to see a man and a woman walking towards her. "Yes?"

"I'm Detective Harris, this is Detective Morelli, 69th precinct," the male said, as they both reached into their pockets and pulled out shields.

"69th precinct?" she echoed, trying to place it.

"Brooklyn," Harris replied. "We're sorry to approach you like this...is there somewhere a bit more private we could talk?"

"Uh...well, I'm actually just on my way to Connecticut," she replied. "Is it important?"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am, and a little bit delicate."

Evelyn crossed her arms across her chest, "Look, if this is about a client then I'm not working at the moment, but if you call the PD's office then I'm sure that..."

"It's not about a client and I'd really rather not do this here, ma'am."

"Oh for God's sake!" she exclaimed. "Can you please just spit out whatever it is you want to talk to me about?"

"Alright," Harris agreed. "It's about your husband, Edward Burns?"

Evelyn paused, "What about him?"

"He was found in an alley behind his office building in the early hours of this morning."

A cold feeling started at the base of her spine and slowly started to work its way up her back. "What do you mean, found?"

"He'd been shot. I'm afraid that...he's dead."


	22. Chapter 22

**Apologies for the delay. Trying to have a life outside of story-land!**

 **Enjoy :)**

"I'm coming. I'm coming right now."

"No, Ben don't..." Evelyn sighed and glanced over her shoulder at the two detectives seated in her living room. They were both pretending to be uninterested in her conversation, but she knew they were listening. "There's no point. They just want me to go down and identify the body, answer a few routine questions and that's it."

"I should be with you," he insisted.

"I'll be fine," she reassured him. "I'd rather you stayed up there. Once this is done I'm going to drive up anyway as planned. There's no point in you coming all the way down here just to turn around again.

There was a momentary silence at the other end of the phone. "Are you alright?"

She sighed again, unsure what the right answer was. How were you meant to feel upon hearing news of your estranged husband's violent death? "Yes."

"Are you sure?" he asked dubiously.

"I'm sure, really I am," she glanced behind her again. "Look, I really should go. I'll call you right before I leave the city, ok?"

"Ok," he acquiesced finally. "I love you."

"I love you too." She put the phone down and turned back to face her visitors. "I guess we should get this over with then." Harris smiled sympathetically at her, but Morelli merely looked at her, as though mentally trying to work her out. The woman couldn't have been much younger than she was, but she had a world weary look about her which screamed that she had clearly seen more than her fair share of horrors. A body in an alley was probably nothing to her and from the way she was looking at her, Evelyn knew that she was trying to decide whether or not she thought a body in an alley was nothing to _her._

It was strange, riding in the back of their car across the bridge to the Brooklyn morgue. As she looked out the window, Evelyn couldn't help but think back to her making the same journey the previous night. It was frightening how much things could change in the space of only a few hours. Edward had been alive and now he was dead. An involuntary shiver went through her, and she pulled the collar of her coat tighter around her neck wondering, not for the first time since learning of his death, whether the killer had been watching her that night too.

When they reached the morgue, she was surprised with the speed of events. One minute they were outside, the next she was in a small room containing a trolley which clearly held a body covered with a sheet. After a cue from the detectives, the morgue assistant pulled it back and she found herself taking a breath to ask them to wait. Then...there he was.

His head was intact. The bullet had gone into the back of his skull, or so they had told her after they had gone back into her apartment, and had lodged there so there was no gaping exit wound for her to see. His face was completely unblemished, the same as it had been the previous night.

Looking at him now, Evelyn felt a jumble of emotions, all jostling for position. She had hated him, hated him for everything that he had done to her and everything that he had put her through over the years. There had been many times, both recent and historic, when she had wished him dead. Yet a part of her, a very small part but a part nevertheless, had still felt something for him, for the person he had been so many years before. She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she looked at him and told herself that any grief she might feel was for _that_ Eddie, not the one she had come to know.

"Is it your husband?" Harris' voice broke into her thoughts.

"Oh...uh, yes," she replied, swallowing down her emotion. "Yes, it's him." The sheet was slipped gently back over his face and he was gone, this time forever.

She would never see him again.

Ever.

The detectives led her into a side room where she sat down on an uncomfortable couch and accepted a plastic cup of coffee from the machine in the corner. It was a soulless room, she couldn't help thinking, glancing around. Not really the kind of environment you would want to be in, at least not if you'd just seen your loved one lying dead in front of you.

"You were separated from your husband, is that right?" Harris asked, pulling out his notebook and settling on the couch opposite her.

"Yes," Evelyn replied, carefully sipping the hot liquid. "Since March. We were getting divorced."

"There was a trial? You accused your husband of rape?"

There was no hint of either recrimination or surprise in his tone and yet she felt her hackles rise slightly at the use of the word _accused._ "Yes, a couple of weeks ago. He was convicted and he was due to be sentenced early next year."

"Not your favourite person then, your husband," Morelli spoke for the first time, her accent pure Chicago.

Evelyn met her gaze. "No, not really."

"So when was the last time that you saw him?" Harris asked pleasantly. "At court?"

Evelyn paused, wondering momentarily if it would be better to lie than be honest. After all, how would she really explain her late night visit to Edward's office, a man they must know she despised? But as she looked at the detective's expectant face, she realised that honesty really would be the best policy.

After all, she had nothing to be ashamed of.

"No," she said finally, "I actually saw him last night."

Harris and Morelli exchanged surprised glances. "Last night?" the latter echoed.

"Yes, I...went to his office...to talk."

"About what?"

"It was personal, to do with his upcoming sentencing," Evelyn replied. "I was shot, back in November and Eddie's lawyer had told the DA that he had information about who was responsible. He wanted to trade that information for a lighter sentence."

"So...what, you went to try and get this information?" Morelli asked, making no attempt to hide the incredulity in her tone.

"No, I wanted him to tell the DA what he knew but I also wanted him to agree to a slightly higher sentence. He wanted to give the information and take five years. I wanted him to give the information and take ten. Without the deal, he would have done at least twenty."

"So, you were trying to help him?"

"I was trying to help myself," Evelyn said, not failing to miss the veiled sarcasm in the other woman's tone.

"And did he agree to your...terms?"

"Yes, he did...not that it matters now."

"What time were you at his office?" Harris asked.

"I got there a little after eight and I left around eight-thirty."

"Can anyone verify that?"

"Only Eddie," she smiled sadly. "There was no-one on the front desk when I arrived."

"You said he had information about who shot you. Did he tell you what he knew?"

"Not in so many words, but I had my suspicions. He was...involved...with the Lucchese family, financially. I'm pretty sure that they were involved in what happened to me."

Morelli narrowed her eyes. "You think that members of an organised crime family shot _you_?"

"Yes," Evelyn said icily, "and if you're looking for suspects on who might have killed Eddie then I suggest that you start with them. Look, if you want to talk to Detectives Briscoe and Logan at the 27th Precinct in Manhattan, I'm sure that they'll be able to give you any information that you might need. They're investigating my case." She got to her feet, feeling a sudden desperate need to get away.

"Ok," Harris put away his notebook. "I think that'll be all for now anyway. Would you like us to give you a ride back to your apartment?"

"No, it's fine. I can get a cab."

"It's no trouble..."

"I know, but I'll manage, thank you."

"Ok..." he smiled at her. "We'll be in touch as soon as we have any further information or updates or if we need anything more from you. Your husband's personal effects are being held as evidence for the moment but once we're finished examining them then you'll be able to collect them. Once the medical examiner signs off on the cause of death, you'll be able to organise the funeral."

"I don't..." Evelyn paused before she could complete her sentence, it suddenly dawning on her that she was Edward's next of kin...technically the only close family he had. Whatever assets he had now belonged to her as did his debts...his arrangements...that would all be down to her too. "That's fine," she recovered herself. "You have my number."

"We do, thank you."

"We're...sorry for your loss," Morelli said.

"Thanks," Evelyn replied, avoiding her gaze.

Before the conversation could go any further, she excused herself and hurried back out onto the street, breathing in the fresh air and trying to dislodge the scent of death from her nostrils. It took ten minutes to find a cab and by the time she got back to her apartment, it was almost one o'clock. Lifting the phone, she called Ben and told him she was on her way. Then she got into her car, put on some music and just drove.

XXXX

"Dead?" Jack's tone was incredulous. "When? What happened?"

"Last night," Ben replied. "The cops turned up at Evelyn's apartment this morning and told her they needed her to identify the body. Apparently, he was shot in the head."

Jack paused, "A mob hit?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Is she alright?"

"She said she was but...I don't know." Ben shook his head at no-one in particular. He knew that the cops had been listening while she had made the phone call to him, but there had definitely been something in her tone that hadn't quite gelled with her assertion of being unaffected by the news.

"My God..." Jack let out a long breath. "Well maybe there _is_ some justice in the world after all. She called me earlier, pretty angry, and told me that she didn't want to make any deal with him."

"Really?" Ben frowned. "I thought she was going to accept the deal. When I spoke to her last night, she didn't come right out and say it, but she certainly gave me that impression."

"Well, something must have happened overnight to change her mind. She told me that he could rot in hell. I hope he's there right now, for her sake."

"You and me both," Ben replied.

After he put the phone down, he went to a nearby florist and bought Evelyn some flowers. He wasn't sure whether or not it was the right thing to do under the circumstances, after all she wasn't exactly the grieving widow, but it was a gesture if nothing else. By the time she did arrive, it was almost four o'clock and he was glad she had made it there before the kids. They were bound to find out what had happened and they needed to agree on what best to say.

"They're beautiful," she said when he released her from his embrace and she caught sight of the flowers on the counter. "You didn't need to do that."

"Well I, uh, wasn't sure whether I should but..." he shrugged. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she replied, fingering the delicate petals. "It's just...been a heck of a morning."

"How did it go at the morgue? You didn't say much on the phone."

"Oh...as expected I guess," she replied, shrugging off her coat and sitting down on the couch. "He just looked like he was sleeping. I kept expecting him to open his eyes and say something offensive to me."

"What did the cops ask you?"

"The usual questions...I mentioned the Lucchese family and told them to contact Briscoe and Logan for more information..." she smiled sadly. "They told me I could have his personal effects once they'd finished with them. Them and his body. It was then that it hit me that I'm his next of kin."

"No other family?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

She shook her head. "His parents are both dead...he was an only child...I think there might be an uncle somewhere in California but I don't really know. He never talked about him. Seems crazy to think that the cops are going to update _me_ on their investigation when I feel..."

"After everything you've been through," Ben said, "it's only natural to feel..."

"What?" she looked at him. "Happy? Is that how I feel? I never thought I would say that about another person's death."

"I was going to say relieved."

"Relieved..." she nodded slowly, "I guess that's a better word. God, I don't really know how I feel. Happy, sad, relieved...this changes everything now."

Ben glanced at the clock on the wall. "The kids are going to be home soon. We'll have to tell them."

"Why?"

"Because they'll probably hear something about it at school or, God forbid, from their mother."

"There's only one day of school left before the holidays and Laura would have to be very well informed to find out so quickly..." she broke off suddenly, her eyes widening. "You're thinking about Mark."

"Exactly," he nodded. "If there's the slightest chance that he's involved somehow and if they're still in contact..."

"You mean you don't know?"

Ben shook his head. "I haven't talked to her in days and the kids don't speak to her for long when she _does_ call. I've no idea if they're still together or if he's still at the house...I just think it would be better that we get in front of this before they hear it from anyone else."

"You're right," she agreed. "But let's try to keep it as low key as possible. I honestly don't want to scare them."

Her concern for his children in the wake of the day's revelations only made his heart sing louder and when Peter and Pamela returned home from school, Evelyn greeted them warmly, as though nothing had happened. She listened while they talked about their days and filled her in on gossip of little consequence, so it wasn't until they were about to sit down to dinner that there was a natural break in the conversation allowing Ben to gently explain what had happened.

"He's dead?" Peter echoed, his gaze flitting between both of them.

"Does that mean he won't be going to jail?" Pamela asked.

"Don't be stupid Pam!" Peter said angrily. "If you're dead you can't go to jail, can you dumbass?"

"Peter..." Ben warned, "We don't need the attitude, thank you."

"Sorry," he muttered, looking at Evelyn again. "How did he die?"

"He was shot," she replied carefully.

"Like you?"

"Yes, only it was more serious."

"Do you know who shot him?" Pamela asked.

"Uh...no," Ben said, glancing at Evelyn. "That's up to the police to find out and I'm sure that they will."

"Is it the same person who shot you?" Peter asked

Evelyn paused. "I don't know Peter, maybe. If it was, then I've no doubt that the police will catch them."

There was a brief moment of silence as the children digested the news.

"So..." Peter looked between them again. "Everything's ok now then, right? I mean, if he's dead...you don't have to worry anymore."

Ben glanced at Evelyn and saw the uncertainty in her eyes, an emotion that only their youth would lead Peter and Pamela to miss. "That's right," she said with faux brightness. "I don't have to worry anymore."

XXXX

"Oh my Lord..." Susan gasped, and Evelyn could almost picture her clutching at her pearls. "I can't believe it. This isn't some sick joke, is it?"

"No, it's not a joke. Why would I call you and tell you Eddie was dead as a joke?"

"I don't know...I just thought that maybe it might just be wishful thinking on your part."

"I saw his body," Evelyn rolled her eyes. "He's dead, Mom."

"Well, that's very...sad, I suppose. Do they know who did it?"

"No, not yet."

"Well I'm sure they'll figure it out. It is a murder after all." Evelyn bit her tongue in order to stop herself from reminding her mother how many murders went unsolved in the city every year. "How are you anyway? It must have been quite a shock for you."

"Yes, it was," she admitted. "But I'm alright. I'm his next of kin so, apparently, the funeral arrangements will be down to me along with everything else."

"Presumably you'll be arranging a church service," Susan opined. "After all, you were married in a church."

"Quite frankly part of me feels like dumping him in a wooden box on Hart Island." There was a shocked silence on the other end of the phone. "But I'm not going to do that."

"I should think not. Whatever he was, Evelyn, he was still your husband at the end of the day. You owe him a proper burial at least."

Evelyn took a breath, realising for perhaps the first time in a long time that therapy with her mother was not going to be the bonding experience she had hoped for. "Yes, you're right," she said sarcastically. "I owe him that."

"Well...you can obviously let me know the details," Susan said, missing the contempt in her daughter's voice, or perhaps choosing to ignore it. "Are you going to be staying in Hartford for the rest of the week?"

"Only until Thursday's court hearing and then we're coming back to the city," she replied. "We think we might have found an apartment."

"It's not going to be easy you know. I hope you realise that taking on the parenting of two teenagers isn't like something out of _Anne of Green Gables._ "

"Yes mother, I do realise that."

"They already have a mother."

"I know that too."

"You'll always be the stepmother, perhaps even the wicked one at that. You'll have to leave all the discipline to Ben, you know."

Evelyn closed her eyes. "Well, we're not quite there yet and Peter and Pamela are great kids..."

"I just want you to know what you're getting into Evelyn," Susan pressed.

"Thank you Mom, I appreciate it."

"Good." Susan sniffed. "Patricia wanted to know if you would all be joining us on Christmas Day. I told her that I thought you and Ben had your own plans but of course if you wanted to come..."

"It's fine," Evelyn said. "We'll just do our own thing on the day. But we'll definitely see you at some point. Anyway, I'd better go."

"Yes, well you take care," Susan said. "And remember to let me know about Eddie's arrangements."

"I will," she replied, resisting the urge to slam the receiver down and, instead, replacing it carefully. Her mother never ceased to amaze her, in so many different ways. She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, the magnitude of the day's events weighing heavily on her. "What the hell kind of funeral am I supposed to arrange?" she asked nobody in particular. "Who the hell am I supposed to invite? What the hell am I supposed to say?"

A soft knock broke into her thoughts and Ben stuck his head around the door. "Everything ok?" he asked. "I wasn't sure if you were still on the phone."

"No, I'm done," she said, pulling herself up into a seated position.

"How was she?"

"Her usual self. Apparently burying my hated husband shouldn't be half as concerning for me as the prospect of becoming stepmother to your teenagers."

"Oh, I see..." he smiled sympathetically. "Well, my teenagers want to know if you'd like to come and watch a movie with us. They even said you could choose." He raised his eyebrows. "I reckon they think you need cheering up."

Evelyn smiled and got to her feet. The family she would be burying was nothing in comparison to the family that they were creating together. Reaching for his hand, she leaned upwards and kissed him gently on the lips. "I reckon your teenagers are right."


	23. Chapter 23

**Here you go folks! Sorry for the delay.**

 **I realise my depiction of the court hearing is probably not true to life, but what good part of fanfic ever is!**

 **Enjoy!**

"I'm nervous."

"Well that's understandable," Ben said as he and Pamela crossed the court rotunda together and headed towards the stairs that would lead to the courtroom. "I'd be more concerned if you _weren't_ nervous."

"You're not nervous though, are you?" Pamela asked, sliding her hand into his.

"No, but then I've been in court lots of times." He squeezed her hand comfortingly, neglecting to tell her that he _was_ actually in fact nervous about the hearing but knowing it was more important that he was strong for her.

"I'm not nervous," Peter said from behind.

"Good for you," Pamela replied acerbically. "I am!"

"It's ok to be nervous and it's ok to not be," Ben said diplomatically.

"What if I say the wrong thing to the judge?"

"You won't," Ben replied as they climbed the stairs. "Nothing you say could be wrong...you're just telling him how you feel and what you want." She didn't look convinced. "It'll only be for a few minutes and then you can go back outside and sit with Evelyn.

"Isn't she coming in with us?" Pamela asked, glancing behind.

"No, we talked about that. Evelyn's just here for support. As mean as it sounds, her opinion doesn't matter." As they reached the hallway leading to the court, Ben looked back to see Evelyn trailing a few paces, her body following but her mind clearly elsewhere. He knew it was wrong to feel irritated with her, after all the last few days had been horrendous for her, but he had hoped that she would have been able to fake it, even just for a few hours. "Isn't that right?" he said, directing his comment to her.

"What?" her head snapped up and she immediately looked cowed, "Sorry, I was miles away." Hurrying forwards, she caught up with them and put her arm around Pamela's shoulder. "You're going to do great, both of you."

"I'm not worried," Peter said nonchalantly. "I think it's cool that we get to into a court and meet an actual judge."

Ben smoothed down a smile at his son's juvenile excitement. If only it were all that innocent. If only they were just here to visit rather than be the subject of a custody battle. As they drew closer to the courtroom, he caught sight of Laura and her lawyer already sitting outside waiting and he felt Pamela's grip tense in his.

"There's Mom," she said softly.

"It's alright," he said reassuringly as Laura got to her feet. "Do you want to talk to her?"

Pamela paused, "I guess."

"You don't have to," Evelyn said.

"We should probably at least say hello," Peter said, trying and failing to sound grown up. "Come on Pam, we'll go together." He took hold of his sister's hand and they made their way slowly towards their mother as her lawyer stepped towards Ben.

"Mr Stone," she greeted him formally.

"Ms Cullen."

"This must be Mrs Burns," she swept her gaze over Evelyn. "And your children, obviously."

"Obviously."

"Could we have a quick discussion?" she asked. "In private?"

"Of course," Ben replied and they moved back down the corridor out of earshot.

"My client has a proposal to make," Ms Cullen said. "I'm hoping that you might be open to it."

"Depends on what it is," Ben replied.

"Joint custody...fifty fifty...with the children to remain at school here in Hartford. That means minimal disruption to their education and both you and your ex-wife have equal time with them." She paused. "Mr O'Reilly is now out of the picture."

"Permanently?"

"Yes."

Ben paused. "The answer is no." Ms Cullen's eyes widened slightly. "The children want to live with me, in New York. I've already found an apartment capable of accommodating everyone, not to mention places for them at new schools. They will live with me during the week and their mother can see them at weekends if they so choose."

"My client won't accept that."

"Then I guess we have to let the judge decide."

"She is their mother..."

"And she should of thought of that before getting herself arrested," Ben interrupted sharply. "No deal."

"You really want to put your children through having to come into the courtroom? You really think that's in their best interests?"

Ben took a breath, fighting back the urge to say what he really wanted to. "Yes, I do."

"Fine," she turned and made her way back down the corridor, casting Evelyn an unpleasant look as she did so.

"What was that all about?" Evelyn asked as he rejoined her outside the door.

"Laura wants joint custody and the kids to stay in Hartford," he replied.

"What did you say?"

"I said no."

"Good," she smiled encouragingly at him. "You know the judge is going to find in your favour, right?"

"I hope so," he sighed, watching as Peter and Pamela spoke to Laura, their expressions downcast, hers somewhat desperate. The door to the courtroom opened and the officer shouted the name of the case. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," she said, kissing him on the cheek before gesturing to the kids to come and sit with her until they were called.

Laura and her lawyer strode into the room first and, just as Ben was about to follow them, he glanced back and nodded at the three faces watching him expectantly. He had never felt more burdened by a desperate need to emerge victorious. By the time he got inside, Laura and her lawyer were already seated at their table and he quickly slid into his seat as Judge Norman came onto the bench.

"Ms Williams...Ms Cullen...Mr Stone..." he greeted the three of them. "Here we are again." Flicking through the papers he glanced over at Ben. "Still unrepresented Mr Stone?"

"Uh, yes your honour."

"Well it worked for you last time I guess, so why risk it?" He cleared his throat. "The children have been living with you since the last hearing?"

"Yes your honour. A few days after the last hearing I found an apartment to rent not far from their school and we've been living there ever since."

"And how's that been going?"

"Fine."

"Good. Ms Cullen, has your client seen the children regularly?"

"I wouldn't say regularly," the lawyer replied. "My client made the offer on more than one occasion but the children have been reluctant to spend any real quality time with her, a fact which has been most upsetting for her."

"I can understand that. Mr Stone, have you tried to encourage your children to see their mother?"

Ben paused before answering. "I told them that it was their decision, your honour. I didn't really express an opinion either way."

"Uh huh..." Judge Norman looked between them. "Has there been any discussion about resolving this issue amicably?"

"I spoke with Mr Stone earlier," Ms Cullen said. "My client proposes joint custody, in Hartford, with the children remaining at their current school."

"What about Mr O'Reilly?"

"He and my client have separated."

"Good to hear, even if only for your client's sake. Mr Stone?"

"I can understand where my ex-wife is coming from, your honour, but the fact remains that the children don't want to live with her. They want to stay with me and they understand that means moving to New York where there is available accommodation and schooling."

"Upsetting their schooling at this stage in their lives is not in their best interests," Ms Cullen said. "On the other hand, Mr Stone has clearly managed to find adequate accommodation in Hartford for the last few weeks...it surely shouldn't be too difficult for him to find somewhere permanent to live."

"My job is in New York," Ben replied.

"We do have District Attorneys in Hartford County. Once again, your honour, as for most of the childrens' lives, their father is putting himself first."

Anger course through Ben, "That is not..."

"Alright..." Judge Norman held up his hand. "Aside from the educational point of view, Ms Cullen, does your client have any other objections to the children moving to New York?"

"She's been their primary carer all of their lives," Ms Cullen replied. "In addition, Peter is a highly valuable member of his school baseball team and he would have to give that up."

"We have baseball teams in New York," Ben retorted pettily.

"Mr Stone..." Judge Norman intervened. "Anything else Ms Cullen?"

"Yes. Your honour will recall that my client had an objection to Mr Stone's girlfriend, Mrs Burns, and the threat that she potentially posed to the children's wellbeing."

"By her being shot?"

"Yes and whist your honour previously ruled that that had no bearing on the children, merely three days ago, her estranged husband was _murdered_ in an alley behind his office in Brooklyn, now..." she spread her hands, "this sort of violence is not something that the children should be continually exposed to."

The judge paused, "Mr Stone?"

"Mrs Burns husband _was_ murdered, your honour, yes but that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his own dubious entanglements. Mrs Burns and her husband were separated and were in the process of getting divorced before his death. The fact that he _is_ dead surely goes some way towards lessening any threat my ex-wife might perceive to the children."

"That might very well be so, your honour, but given the fact that Mrs Burns visited her husband at his office mere hours before he was shot and killed still gives my client grave concerns about the sort of people that their father is exposing them to."

Ben wasn't sure if he had heard right, and yet he knew that he had. The air in the room seemed to still and grow heavy...the collar and tie of his shirt seemed to dig in painfully, almost to the point that he felt he couldn't breathe...

"Are you saying that Mrs Burns is a suspect in the murder of her husband?" the judge asked.

"No, not according to my information," Ms Cullen replied. "She was interviewed routinely by the Brooklyn police department as next of kin, but the fact that she was still consorting with a man whom she claimed, and who was indeed convicted of, raping her...well...my client doesn't feel she is the sort of person who should be caring full time for two impressionable teenagers."

Judge Norman turned to Ben again, "Mr Stone?"

"Uh..." he fought to remain calm, remain professional when all her wanted to do was grab Evelyn by the shoulders and shake her. "Whatever...whatever Mrs Burns may or may not have done that evening has no bearing whatsoever on her ability to act _in loco parentis_ to my children. I trust her with them completely and they have a very good relationship with her."

"The children are here?"

"Yes your honour, they're outside with Mrs Burns."

"Mr Lang, could you call them in please?"

Ben swivelled in his chair as the court officer opened the door and called Peter and Pamela's names. Seconds later, they appeared in the doorway of the room, Pamela's hand still in her brothers, their eyes wide, their faces pale, all trace of excitement and anticipation gone from Peter's expression. In short, they simply looked like two frightened children.

"Come in, come in!" Judge Norman beckoned them. "Come and sit down here with your father." He gestured to the seats beside Ben and once they had slid into them, fixed them both with a winning smile. "You must be Peter and Pamela is that correct?" They both nodded. "Peter, how old are you?"

"Fifteen," he replied, his voice shaking slightly. "Pamela's thirteen," he added quickly.

"Well done, you saved me needing to ask her the same question. Now, you both know why we're all here today, don't you?" They both nodded again. "You've been staying with your dad here in Hartford for the last few weeks, haven't you?"

"Yes," Peter replied.

"And how has that been?"

"Fine."

"Do you like living with him?"

"Yes."

"What about you Pamela?"

"She likes it too," Peter replied quickly, flinching slightly as Ben touched his arm gently.

"That's great, Peter, but it would be really helpful if you would let Pamela answer for herself, ok? I know you're just being a helpful big brother but I need to hear from both of you. Is that alright?" Peter nodded. "Good. Pamela?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice tiny in the cavernous room.

"And have you missed staying with your mother, Pamela?" the judge asked.

Pamela shrugged, "A bit."

"Not really," Peter replied without being asked.

"Now, your dad would like you to live with him permanently in New York City. Do you understand what that means?" They nodded. "And your mother wants you to go back and live with her here in Hartford. If you stay in Hartford, you would stay at your current school, but if you move to New York you'd have to go to a different school. Peter, how do you feel about that choice?"

"It's cool," he shrugged, "I don't mind going to a new school."

"What about your friends and your baseball? I understand you're a really good player."

"I can make friends in the city and the teams there are better."

Judge Norman nodded, "So, do I take it that you _want_ to go and live with your dad?"

"Yeah."

"Pamela, what about you?"

Pamela didn't say anything and, when Ben glanced at her, he could see tears hovering in her eyes. "It's ok," he said, leaning across Peter and touching her knee. "You can say whatever you want." She kept silent, the tears growing heavier and eventually spilling down her cheeks. "It's ok," he repeated.

"Your honour, putting the children through this..."

"That's enough Ms Cullen, thank you. Pamela..." Judge Norman smiled at her. "It's ok for you to say whatever you feel. Nobody is going to be upset or angry, ok?" Pamela nodded. "So, do you want to go and live with your dad or would you prefer to stay here with your mom?"

"I miss my mom," Pamela replied, her voice cracking slightly.

Ben looked over to where Laura was sitting with her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking slightly, and suddenly wondered if it was worth continuing. The last thing he had ever wanted was to upset either of the children and, if Mark really was out of their lives...and Evelyn had done what the lawyer was suggesting...perhaps he should let them stay where they were.

 _No,_ his inner voice said loudly. _You didn't fight the last time and this is where you are now. If you back out now this is it._

"But I want to stay with my dad," Pamela added, wiping her arm across her face.

Ben let out a slow breath and looked at the judge who was nodding slowly. "Thank you, both of you. Mr Stone, did you say that Mrs Burns was here?"

"Uh, yes your honour, she's outside..."

"I would object to her being brought in," Laura's lawyer interrupted. "Nothing she can have to say bears any relevance..."

"Calm down Ms Cullen. Despite your assertions that her behaviour is a strong motivating factor in your client not wishing her children to stay with their father, I only asked to ensure that the children have someone outside that they can sit with until the hearing is over. Peter...Pamela...thank you for talking to me today. Perhaps you could go outside and wait with Mrs Burns until we're finished, ok?" Both children looked at Ben and he nodded encouragingly to them. Peter got to his feet first and held out his hand to Pamela, carefully leading her back to the door and outside.

Once the door had closed behind them, Judge Norman cleared his throat and shuffled his papers. "Well, these cases are never easy to deal with. Most of the time, courts tend to favour the mother as primary custodian, particularly where young children are involved. But here we have two teenagers, clearly able to articulate their own thoughts and feelings on this subject. Both of them have indicated that they would prefer to remain with their father and, whilst I don't often like making orders that drastically change a child's day to day routine, in this case I believe that it will be in their best interests."

"Your honour..."

"Ms Cullen...please. I'm therefore granting Mr Stone's application for full custody of Peter and Pamela Stone commencing immediately. Mr Stone, you are free to take your children to live in New York. Ms Williams, the generally accepted order for contact with the non-custodial parent is every other weekend. I will add that into the order but I will also make it clear that any contact must only take place if the children wish it to. Mr Stone, I do however expect you to encourage contact to take place, especially if there is no perceived risk to the children in so doing. I'm also going to schedule a revisiting of this order in one year's time, that will be the...20th December 1994 at ten o'clock. If all things remain the same then the matter can be formally brought to a close. Obviously in the course of the next twelve months should anything change, either party can seek a variance of the order." He looked at them both in turn. "I hope that both of you will do your best to ensure that your children remain healthy and happy. This court is adjourned."

XXXX

"Can we go to Aldo's for ice cream later?" Pamela asked as they drove back towards New York.

"I don't see why not," Evelyn replied, twisting in her seat to look at her.

"Is there an ice cream parlour close to the new place?"

"I'm not sure. We'll have to look when we get there."

"Do you think we'll like it?" Peter asked.

"I hope so. Your dad and I do." Evelyn glanced at Ben. "Don't we?"

"Yeah..." he replied. "It's a nice apartment."

The kids started bickering good-naturedly and Evelyn reached out to put her hand on Ben's leg. "I'm really pleased that it all worked out," she said softly. "When I was sat there on my own..." she paused, "I don't know, all sorts of things were running through my head." She rubbed his leg gently. "I'm glad you got what you wanted."

He made no move to touch her in return, instead keeping both hands on the wheel and his gaze fixed on the road ahead. Evelyn frowned and withdrew her hand. If she hadn't known better, she would have said that his mood upon leaving the court had been less that of the victor and more that of someone deeply annoyed.

"Is everything ok?"

"Yes," he replied shortly. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, it's just..." she paused. "I mean, you don't seem all that happy with the outcome."

"Of course I'm happy with the outcome. The kids are coming to live with me, aren't they?"

"Yes..."

"Then what's not to be happy about?" he glanced at her quickly and she couldn't fail to see the anger in his eyes. The anger directed at her.

"Have I done something to upset you?"

"I don't know, have you?"

His tone surprised her, "Ben..."

"How much longer?" Peter piped up. "I'm bored and I'm hungry!"

"Thirty minutes," Ben replied. "We'll get some lunch at home and then we need to be at the apartment for two-thirty."

"Fine..." Peter slumped back in his seat.

Evelyn looked at Ben again, at the tightness of his jaw and his continued refusal to look at her. Something had happened. Something had happened between the time he had walked into the hearing and the time he had walked out. Something had happened...or something had been said...

She felt a tingle at the base of her spine. It couldn't have been anything about her. What was there to say after all? It wasn't as if anything she had said or done would have been of any relevance to anyone in a custody hearing...unless...

She looked over at him again and instantly realised that, somehow, he knew about her visit to Edward.

"You know, don't you?" she said quietly.

"Yes," he replied tightly, without hesitation.

"I'm...I'm sorry..."

"I don't want to hear it," he said, as they pulled off the highway towards the city. "For once, Evelyn, I just really don't want to hear it."

"Fine," she said, turning her attention to the scenery outside, feeling tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "That's fine."


	24. Chapter 24

**Sorry for the delay everyone. My son and I have both been unwell and, to be honest, I struggled quite a bit with the tone of this chapter. I must have written it three or four different ways before settling on this version.**

 **Thanks for all the reviews. Cynthia, I totally see where you're coming from regarding Ben. I think he's been using the situation with the kids as a bit of a barrier but now that it's sorted, hopefully he can step up and be there for Evelyn more!**

 **Enjoy! :)**

There was a tension in the atmosphere and Evelyn knew that the kids had noticed. They hadn't said anything but every so often they would glance at each other and then look at either Ben or herself, their expressions slightly questioning. She knew that Ben had noticed it too, but every time she looked at him, tried to communicate something to him with her eyes, he looked away. The initial anger that she had sensed in the car had dissipated somewhat and been replaced by something that only succeeded in making her feel worse than she already did – a sense of disappointment.

It was hard, carrying on with the tasks of the day when all she wanted to do was have it out with him, explain why she had done it and hopefully make him understand. But there hadn't been an opportune moment since they had left Hartford. After a quick lunch back at Ben's apartment they had gone to the viewing and Peter and Pamela had both been very taken with their potential new home. They had earmarked which rooms they both wanted and Peter had quipped that at least nobody would need to sleep on the couch. Ben had signed the initial rental agreement and then there had been a flurry of activity back at his place, packing boxes and organising removers. The keys were going to be available the next morning, Christmas Eve, and though he didn't yet have a buyer, he had said that he wanted them all to move in as quickly as possible.

"I thought you were buying the new place," Peter said, stacking plates into a box.

"I am," Ben replied. "We are."

"So why did you sign a rental agreement?"

"Because I'm...we're...renting it for the first six months with an option to buy thereafter," he explained. "It seemed the easiest way, just in case you guys decide you don't like it."

"But the judge said we had to live with you," Pamela said from her position crouched in front of a cupboard.

"Yes, but only so long as you want to. And if you decide you want to go back to Hartford...what are Evelyn and I going to do with such a big place?"

"Have kids?" Peter shrugged.

Evelyn paused where she was wrapping cups in newspaper and caught Ben's eye, the earlier issue momentarily forgotten. "Is that something you would be ok with...if it happened?" she asked cautiously mindful of his previous reaction.

"You were already going to have one, weren't you?" Peter reasoned.

"Yes, that's true."

"And you're getting married, aren't you?" She nodded. "Well then."

"I'd like a sister," Pamela said. "No more boys."

"I'm not sure there's much we could do to guarantee that," Ben said. "It would be a fifty-fifty shot either way."

"I'd rather have a brother," Peter said. "I could teach him how to pitch."

" _I_ can pitch!" Pamela protested.

"Girls can't pitch. At least, not as well as boys can."

"They can too!"

"Your arm always looks floppy when you do it."

"Shut up Peter!"

The kids continued to bicker whilst Evelyn finished the cups and made her way through the living room and into the main bedroom, looking around for things to pack away. Catching sight of the photographs by the bed, she picked them up one by one and starting wrapping them, wondering if she might make it into some of them in their new home. When Ben had signed the agreement, she had had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, even though she had always known it was going to be that way. They had agreed that it was for the best. He would take the rental and she would give up her apartment, move in with him and help with bills. Then, once the six months were up, if things remained the same with the kids, they would get married and buy the apartment together. It had all seemed so straightforward before, so neat and yet in light of what had happened, she suddenly felt unsure.

"I don't think we need to worry about too many things in here," Ben said, coming up behind her and causing her to start slightly. "The movers can shift the heavy furniture in the morning."

"What about your clothes and stuff?"

"I can do that."

"Ok. It was lucky that you were able to get removers at such short notice and for Christmas Eve too," she said conversationally, folding up the blanket that lay at the bottom of the bed.

"Well, you offer enough money and people will practically do anything." He paused. "As crazy as it sounds, part of me desperately wants to make love to you right now."

Surprised, she turned to face him. "That wasn't what I was expecting you to say."

"No?"

"No. I was expecting you to...I don't know...start shouting at me or something."

"When have I ever shouted at you?" he asked, a fleeting look of hurt crossing his face. "We've had arguments before, Evelyn, but..."

"I'm sorry. I guess it was a poor choice of words." She sighed heavily. "I know you're angry with me, Ben and I understand why."

"Do you?"

"Of course. I should have told you that I had been to see Eddie that night. I shouldn't have lied to you about it and...I know that you're only concerned for me and my safety but...I had my reasons for doing it, good reasons."

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Then tell me what they were."

"I wanted him to agree to talk to the police about what he knew regarding the shooting."

"But he was going to do that anyway."

"And spend only five years in jail?" She leaned back against the wall and shook her head. "You said yourself that was a ridiculously low sentence for what he did...for _everything_ that he did...so I went there to ask him to agree to ten years or I would tell Jack to push for twenty."

"And what did he say?"

"Somewhat surprisingly, he agreed."

Ben studied her face, as though weighing up the veracity and sensibility of what she was telling him. "We could have negotiated that through his lawyer. You didn't have to go down there personally."

"I know you don't understand, I don't expect you to but, for once, I had the power and whether it's right or it's wrong it felt good to be in control, even just that one time. I needed to look him in the eye, Ben. I needed him to understand _why_ I wanted him to agree." She swallowed hard. "He could have helped us convict the people who shot me...the people who killed _our_ baby...isn't that what you would have wanted?"

"Of course it is," he said tightly. "Do you honestly believe that I don't think about that baby all the time? Didn't I tell you before about how useless I felt not being able to protect either of you? You'd be five months gone by now, probably showing. I'd be able to look at you...and see my child. There is nothing that I want more than to see the people responsible brought to justice, you know that. You were the one who had to tell me to reign it in, remember?"

"I know..."

"If you had told me that you felt a face to face meeting with Edward would have helped then we could have talked about it. I could have gone with you."

"I didn't need you to go with me, Ben. This was something that I needed to do on my own. I knew that he wouldn't respond to threats through the DA's office or me taking bodyguards with me. It had to be just me and him."

"He could have done anything to you."

"I know," she nodded, briefly thinking back to when Edward had kissed her and how disgusted it had made her feel, "but he didn't."

"I suppose the only good thing is that he's dead and neither of us ever has to see him again."

"And with him, potentially goes any chance of finding out who shot me and why."

Ben sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Laura's lawyer brought up your going there as a reason why the children shouldn't come and stay with me."

"What?"

He nodded. "She tried to claim that given you were shot and then Edward was shot...well, that there was a potential danger to the kids in being around you. Fortunately, she clarified that you weren't a suspect in his murder." He regarded her carefully, as though weighing up how to say what he wanted to. "I could have lost that hearing, Evelyn. I could have lost my children all because you didn't tell me that you were with him. Did you even think about that?"

She ducked her head, his quiet disapproval stinging even more than if he had indeed simply shouted at her. "No," she replied honestly, "I didn't."

"If you _had_ told me, then at least I would have been prepared for it, instead of sitting there like an idiot because I was in the dark. If I had lost Peter and Pamela..." he trailed off and shook his head, "these are my _children_ , Evelyn."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the realisation of what he was saying sank in. Despite everything she had said to Elizabeth in therapy, despite the feelings of contentment that she had told herself she had, it didn't take much for her to feel as though she was right back at square one."If you had lost them, it would have been my fault." He didn't say anything. "And they are the most important things in your life." She lifted her head and his face misted in front of her as the tears pooled in her eyes. "I get it, Ben. I understand. You're a father before anything else. I know where I fall in the grand scheme of things."

"Wait a second," he got to his feet. "That's not what I'm saying at all..."

"Yes it is," she moved back towards the door. "If you had lost the hearing because of my going to see Eddie then you would have blamed me and most likely ended our relationship."

"Evelyn, that isn't what I said..."

"Do you know how much I have hoped and prayed over the last few weeks that you would be successful, that you would win custody? I'm the one who pushed you to do something about it, remember? I care about your kids, not in the same way that you do I know, but I do care about them. I'm _thrilled_ that you got custody of them and if I hadn't been in court myself I would have been with you in Hartford supporting you."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Do you have any idea how horrible it feels to realise that you are completely unimportant to everyone?" She wiped her hand viciously across her face. "To know that you'll always be second...an afterthought? I was an appendage to Eddie, something that didn't deserve any attention beyond being used whenever he felt like it. I'm a nuisance to my mother, who clearly feels that I brought all the horrors of my marriage on myself and that I should be grateful that anyone would want to take a second glance at me and you...what am I to you, Ben? A convenient step-mother? Someone you're willing to support, so long as it's only required during school hours?"

Ben stared at her, "Is that what you really think? Evelyn...the last few weeks since the trial have been great. We've been closer than ever, talking about the future, the new apartment, getting married. Yes, having the kids has been a big change and I'm not saying it's going to be easy but...I thought that we were happy..."

"We were...we are," she replied. "But what are you really most upset about, Ben? Me going to see Eddie because I could have been hurt or because it could have impacted on your case?"

"Both," he replied pointedly.

"I don't believe you."

"Then believe this..." he slid his hands onto her waist. "I love you...so much. I want us to live together, I want us to get married...yes, I have two teenagers...two teenagers that I now have custody of and that are going to be sharing our lives whether we like it or not. But loving them doesn't make me love you any less. You are all equally important to me, all three of you and the thought of any of you being in any kind of danger..." He swallowed hard. "Do you honestly think that it didn't kill me not being able to be with you every day of the trial? Not to be there and support you when you had to relive every moment of your life with him? If I could have, I would have been. But in that situation I _had_ to put the kids first and I know you think that I somehow let you down over that and I'm sorry. If I need to prove to you that I am going to be there for you from now on then I will. Just tell me how."

She looked up into his face, at the earnestness of his expression, and almost hated herself for what she had said. Indeed, what was he supposed to do? They weren't love struck kids in their twenties, just starting out on life's road together. They were older, wiser and with baggage that each one would simply have to accept.

"Do you want to get married sooner? We don't have to wait six months if you don't want to," he continued. "Or do you...do you want to try for another baby? I know I said before that the thought of you falling pregnant again after what happened scared me but...if it's what you wanted..."

"No," she said. "We're better off doing what we agreed. Living together full time first...as a family. Peter and Pamela's stability is more important right now. I'm not so self-absorbed that I can't see that."

"You're not self-absorbed." He pushed her hair back from her face. "Not at all."

"I'm sorry," she said, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Eddie, really I am."

"I'm sorry too." He kissed her and she melted into his arms, feeling the warmth and security of his feelings for her and trying to let her own insecurities go...little by little. "I'm still desperate to make love to you," he said in her ear.

A sudden crash and the sound of raised voices came from the direction of the kitchen, causing them both to jump.

Evelyn smiled ruefully. "I think we might have to take a rain check on that."

XXXX

"Thank you for calling to let me know," Laura said stiffly and Ben could almost imagine the look on her face. "At least I know where my children are going to be living and a number I can reach them on."

"Are you going to your parents for Christmas Day?" he asked, hoping to bring the conversation onto a more even keel.

"Well I'm not going to stay here on my own, am I?" she replied acerbically. "I'll spend the day with them and then come home. They'll be upset not to see Peter and Pamela, especially given this will be the first year in the last ten when they haven't."

"Perhaps they could come and stay with you this weekend?" Ben volunteered.

"Did they say they wanted to?"

"Well I haven't asked them yet but I'm sure that they would want to see you..."

"Are you? I'm glad you have faith in them."

"This isn't their fault."

"I'm aware of that, thank you."

"Laura...I _am_ sorry about all of this, you know."

There was a prolonged silence at the other end of the phone and for a moment he thought she had hung up. "What do you have to be sorry for, Ben?" she said finally. "You did the right thing, didn't you?"

Caught off guard by her response, Ben paused before replying. "Well, I'd like to think that I did, but I know you don't see it that way."

"Don't I?

"Well..."

"I'm not completely stupid, Ben. I know that I should never have allowed Peter and Pamela to see the things they did. I should never have allowed Mark to move in. I should have..." she broke off and he heard the unmistakable sound of a glass clinking and the sound of rushing liquid. "I should have put them first, like I always had done before. Instead, I've lost them, and for what? Nothing."

"You haven't lost them. You're still their mother."

"Am I? They seem to prefer spending time with Evelyn now, despite..." she paused again. "Despite what's happened."

"Evelyn didn't ask for her husband to do all those things to her, Laura," Ben said. "Nor did she ask for herself to be shot or Edward to be murdered."

"Yes, I know." Laura let out a shaky breath. "Just promise me that you'll keep an eye on the children, Ben. I don't want them to...to get hurt."

"They're not going to get hurt," he reassured her. "They're good kids..."

"Promise me!" she insisted. "The city...it's so dangerous. You know that as well as I do. Why do you think I brought them to Hartford when we separated?"

Ben frowned, "Laura..."

"I have to go," she interrupted him. "There's someone at the door. I'll call the kids on Saturday morning, if I may, just to wish them Merry Christmas?"

"Of course. You can call them anytime..." The buzzing of the dial tone indicated that, this time, she had hung up. Slowly, he replaced the receiver and turned to where Evelyn was standing in the doorway.

"Everything ok?" she asked.

"Yeah, fine."

"That's the last of the stuff packed. The kids are chomping at the bit to go to _Aldo's_ and then they're talking about some crazy plan where we all camp out on the living room floor for our last night in this place."

"Sounds good," he replied, distractedly, unaware that she had stolen up next to him until he felt her hand on his arm.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yeah, it's just..." he paused, trying to put his finger on what was bothering him. "It's just something that Laura said...about the city being dangerous and me needing to watch out for the kids."

"Well it _is_ dangerous," Evelyn agreed. "We know that better than most." He didn't reply. "Ben?"

"You know, I was thinking," he turned to her. "I was thinking about Laura's lawyer bringing up your visit to Edward at court."

Evelyn blinked, "I thought we had agreed to..."

"We did," he said reassuringly, "that's not what I'm saying. It's just..."

"It's just what?"

"Well, how did the lawyer know? How did she know that you had been to see Edward that night?"

"Well I..." Evelyn began and then paused. "I guess...with everything...I hadn't really thought..."

"I mean, who knew about it, at the time of the hearing?" Ben persisted. "You, obviously..."

"And the detectives from Brooklyn. I told them when we were at the mortuary."

"The lawyer said that according to her information, you were simply routinely questioned and that you weren't a suspect in Edward's death. Now, where did she get that information?"

Evelyn paused, "From a leak or a friend in the Brooklyn PD?"

Ben shook his head, "What if she got it from Laura herself?"

"But how would Laura have known..." Evelyn broke off, her eyes widening slightly as she took his meaning. "Mark O'Reilly?"

Ben nodded, "And if that's true and he's still in her life...we might be able to show probable cause for having her local usage details checked the night of the shooting."

"So...the case might not have died with Eddie after all."

Ben pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tightly. "Exactly."


	25. Chapter 25

**Thanks once again for all the reviews!**

 **Cynthia, thanks for your thoughts. I always enjoy reading them. I think so far as Ben is concerned, I can't really write him any differently than I have. I believe that he's basically a good, decent man and though he lost his way a bit with the kids in recent years, he's really stepping up now for them. Although he loves Evelyn, she's going to have to face the reality that I'm guessing anyone who gets involved with someone with kids has to face, and that is that the kids have to come first. If things had never escalated with Peter and Pamela then I'm sure he would have been there for Evelyn 100% but I truly believe that he's doing the best that he feels he can for everyone right now.**

 **Whether harmony reigns, of course, is yet to be seen...**

 **Enjoy :)**

 **January 1994**

"Mrs Burns, that argument is ludicrous and you know it," Judge Larkin took off her glasses and fixed Evelyn with a distinctly unimpressed look. "Even if your client was under the influence of drugs at the time of his arrest, he was perfectly coherent when he was interviewed by the detectives. So coherent, in fact, that he was able to ask for a lawyer. Ms Green was present throughout!"

"I understand that, your honour, but based on the statements made by Mr Wells..."

"Based on the statements made he put himself right in the frame. In fact, he knew details of the crime that only the perpetrator would know." The judge put her glasses back on again. "If Ms Green had been concerned about Mr Wells then she should have asked for the interview to be halted and for him to be seen by a doctor. She did neither of those things. The statements made by Mr Wells are admissible. Now, do you have any further motions or can we set this thing down for trial?"

"I have no further motions, your honour," Evelyn conceded.

"Good. Mr McCoy, are the people ready for trial?"

"Yes your honour."

"Fine, then let's get this show on the road next week and you can tell Ms Green that if she wants to waste the courts time with any more frivolous motions she can argue them herself." Judge Larkin paused. "In any event, it's nice to see you back on the right side of the table, Mrs Burns."

"Thank you, your honour," Evelyn replied, pinking slightly as the judge nodded and then rose from the bench. Gathering up her papers, she let out a long breath knowing that Shambala wasn't going to be pleased when she relayed the news.

"Dropped right in it, huh?" Jack said, coming over to the table. "Another Green special?"

"Something like that," she replied. "She would have come and argued it herself but she's meeting with Nicola Foster at Rikers. You're due to start later this week?"

"Thursday," Jack nodded. "

"Who did you draw?"

"Judge Rodriguez."

"Firm but fair."

"Sympathetic to victims of abuse too." He paused. "Edward's funeral is tomorrow, right?"

Evelyn nodded as they slowly made their way out of the courtroom together. "Ben thinks I shouldn't go."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "He thinks that I've organised it all, despite everything, and that I'm better off just letting those that want to attend get on with it."

"What do you think?"

"I don't know. Part of me can't think of anything worse than sitting there while the priest gives a eulogy about what a good man he really was and how all sins can be forgiven in heaven and another part of me thinks that, by going, it'll be the final closure that I need to move on." She turned to look at him. "What do you think?"

"I think it's a tough one. Are you expecting a good turn out?"

"Most of the office I would imagine," she replied. "Not to mention my mother." He raised his eyebrows. "Secretly I think she's more upset about it than she's letting on. If I was a betting person, I'd put money on her not _really_ believing that everything that happened between Eddie and I really did happen."

"That's hard," he sympathised.

"Yeah, it is..." she let out a long breath as they ventured back out into the crisp afternoon air. "Anyway, I'd better get back to the office and give Shambala the bad news. What about you?"

"Back to my desk, groaning under the weight of work. It's been good having Ben back but I'm still trying to catch up from when he was away. Speaking of that, how are the kids settling in at their new school?"

"Fine, by all accounts, though it's only been two weeks. I think Peter's finding it easier than Pamela. He's joined the school baseball team already and made friends that way. She's still struggling a bit though she'd never really admit it." Evelyn smiled thinking about her. "It's been easier than I imagined, us all living together."

"Ah, that's cause you're still in the honeymoon phase," Jack opined, holding out his hand for a passing cab. "Long may it continue. You want a ride?"

"No, I'm going the other way."

"Of course. Well, if Shambala comes to her senses and decides she wants to plead Mrs Foster sensibly, tell her to call me."

"I will," Evelyn replied, watching as he disappeared inside the cab and it, in turn, merged into the afternoon traffic. Given that it was dry, albeit cold, she decided to walk part of the way back to her office, primarily to clear her head but also to think about the funeral.

Christmas had come and gone in a flash. The four of them had spent the day together in the new apartment, she and Ben both managing to cobble together something akin to Christmas dinner and, in all honesty, it had been the best Christmas she had had in years. When she thought back to the previous year, when she was still with Edward, it had barely compared. This time she had felt happy. This time she had felt loved. This time she had felt safe.

Laura had called in the morning to wish the kids merry Christmas and though her conversation with them had been initially stilted, after a few minutes both Peter and Pamela had warmed up to her and there had been actual laughter between them before the call had ended, with an agreement that they would travel up to Hartford a few days later to spend some time with her.

The following day she had met Susan for brunch while Ben and the kids sprawled out in front of the television eating leftovers and candy. Evelyn would have preferred to have joined them, but she couldn't help the feeling of guilt that permeated her every time she thought about her mother and how little time she had spent with her of late. Susan's conversation had been all about Christmas with her sister, about how Patricia had been irked because Sarah hadn't called and then she had started on about the funeral arrangements.

"I haven't made any yet," Evelyn had replied as evenly as she could. "He only died a few days ago and it's Christmas. Things don't move as quickly over the holidays. Besides, they haven't released his body yet."

"It's a terrible thing," Susan had shuddered. "Well remember, I want to know the details. I want to pay my respects."

Evelyn had bitten her tongue at that point and quickly changed the subject onto something less controversial. In reality, she had been dreading the call to say that she could have Edward's body and when it had finally come, three days after the New Year, she had felt a sudden pressure to organise everything as quickly as possible and get it over with. A simple church service followed by a burial had seemed the most appropriate course of action but only after Susan had gasped in horror at the fact that she hadn't organised some kind of wake for afterwards, did she book a section of a local restaurant and order food.

"I won't be going to that part," she had told her mother stridently. "If you want to go that's up to you, but I won't be."

"Fair enough," Susan had replied. "You should do what you think is best, after all."

"What's best is that you shouldn't be going at all," Ben had opined when she had told him about the details. "What's the point? The man abused you for your entire marriage! Why would you want to sit there and pretend to mourn him?"

"I don't know," she had replied honestly. "I guess it's just something I feel I need to do. I don't expect you to understand. I don't even expect you to come with me."

He had paused then, reached across and taken her hand. "Of course I'm coming with you if you're going. Do you really think I'd let you go through that on your own?"

As she walked and recalled the conversation, she suddenly felt the icy chill of rain hitting the back of her neck and she quickly hailed a cab before it could get any heavier. By the time it dropped her at her office, the heavens had opened and unleashed a shower the likes of which she hadn't seen in weeks. As she ran inside, she could only be grateful that it wasn't snowing.

"I beat you back," Shambala greeted her, emerging from her office as Evelyn made her way down the hall to her own. "I figured you'd be here long before me."

"I walked some of the way," Evelyn replied, shaking off her coat and hanging it on the coat stand. "You won't be surprised to hear that I lost the motion."

Shambala made a face. "It was worth a shot."

"I'm glad you think so."

"Oh come on, it's our job! Sometimes we have to go above and beyond to defend our clients, you know that!"

Evelyn smiled as she lifted her messages, remembering the look on Ben's face when he had once called her 'the queen of the spurious motion.' "I'm not sure Judge Larkin agreed. Anyway, the statements are in."

"Fine, I'll call McCoy and see if we can work out a plea," Shambala sighed and leaned against the wall. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"You've been back at work for two weeks and I doubt you've stopped to draw breath. You were shot, remember?"

Evelyn shot her a look. "I could hardly forget now, could I? I'm fine, really. I'm still taking some painkillers but the doctor wouldn't have signed me fit to work if I wasn't now, would he?"

"I suppose not." Shambala paused. "How are you feeling about tomorrow?"

"Ok."

"I'm sorry I can't be there."

"I didn't expect you to be there," Evelyn sat down behind her desk. "It's not as if you really knew him."

"No, but I would have liked to have been there for you if Judge Bowers hadn't assigned the Mason allocution for eleven thirty. I tried to get his clerk to push it back..."

Evelyn looked up, warmed by the effort that one of her only friends had tried to make. "Honestly, it's fine. It's not as if I'm the grieving widow, at least not really. Besides, Ben's going to be there, and my mother, so it's not as if I'll be on my own."

"Good," Shambala said, seemingly satisfied. "I know that it's a Tuesday night but if you feel you need to tie one on afterwards...I'm available."

"You'll be up to your eyes in trial prep for Thursday. Unless Nicola Foster agreed to a plea?"

"Nope and I wouldn't have encouraged her. Manslaughter two is as high as either of us is prepared to go and if the DA's office can't see the wisdom in that then that's their problem. I fully expect to get her acquitted."

Evelyn smiled, "You know, if I had ever killed Eddie myself...I reckon I would have wanted you to represent me."

"Huh," Shambala opened the office door and winked. "I doubt you could have afforded me."

XXXX

"Did you lodge the motion?"

"Yes, but..."

"But what? It's fairly straightforward isn't it?"

"Well yes, but the calendar is pretty full and still catching up after the holidays. I did say that it was important but..."

Ben sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It wasn't Claire's fault, he knew that, and yet the wheels of justice seemed to be moving at an increasingly slow speed ever since he had come to the conclusion that there _was_ probable cause for checking Laura's local usage details the night of the shooting. During one conversation that they had had, when the children had gone to visit her over the holidays, he had come right out and asked her how her lawyer had known that Evelyn had visited her husband the night before he was killed.

"I have no idea," she had replied smoothly. "I'm guessing she knows people down in Brooklyn?"

"You didn't tell her?"

"Why would _I_ have told her? I didn't even know about it."

He had been tempted to push further, to ask her if Mark was still involved in her life and if he had been the one to divulge the information, but sense had won out and he had simply left it alone. When Peter and Pamela had returned home, he had quizzed them as unobtrusively as possible about what had happened during their stay and who had been there. They had both emphatically confirmed that there had been no mention, or sight, of Mark.

"Ben..." Claire said carefully. "You know that it isn't really your case, right? I mean, Jack's handling it..."

"Only he isn't, is he?" he replied curtly and then immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I know he's busy and that he had to catch a lot of my cases while I was on vacation. I'm not blaming him...the Foster case starts this week, right?"

"Thursday."

"How confident is in that he'll get a conviction?"

She made a face, "You know it could go either way, especially if Nicola Foster comes across as sympathetically as we think she will."

"Oh Shambala Green will have the jury weeping before she's even finished her opening argument." He sighed. "Look, thanks for your help with the motion. I'll talk to Adam and maybe he can pull a few strings to get it before a judge before the end of the month."

"Sure, is there anything else I can do?"

"No, you've helped enough, thanks. Apologise to Jack for me for taking you away from him."

Claire smiled ruefully, "Sometimes a little distance isn't always a bad thing." Before he could think about enquiring as to her meaning, she slipped out of the side door, closing it quietly behind her. Lifting the phone, he called through to Adam's secretary to confirm that he was in and then made his way slowly down the hall to his office. As he walked, he couldn't help but think that being back at work really was the best thing for him. The last few weeks prior to Christmas had definitely made him realise that he was not cut out for house husbandry, though he also had to admit that having Evelyn and the children all under the same room had, so far, been pretty blissful.

"I know why you're here," Adam said by way of greeting. "Don't think I don't hear things."

"Hear things about what?" Ben asked.

"About you, sticking your oar in where you shouldn't. Filing motions to have your ex-wife's phone records checked for the night of Evelyn's shooting for one."

"Claire filed the motion. I only..."

"Don't come the cute innocent with me, I've known you too long," Adam tossed down his pen. "You're smart enough to know that you should be a million miles from this case. You're a victim yourself, remember?"

"I know," he said. "I understand what you're saying but Jack is snowed under with work and it's only one motion. It's not as though I was intending to argue it myself, if I can ever get it before a judge."

"Oh, I see," Adam smiled knowingly. "You want me to help you with that."

"The calendar is pretty full and it could take weeks to get a slot. I know it's not an emergency but it _is_ pretty important," Ben cajoled. "If we can prove the link between Mark O'Reilly and O'Reilly Limited and then, in turn, prove the link between that company and the Lucchese family..."

"Then you're still no closer to finding out who shot Evelyn or why."

Ben paused, "I don't agree. Somebody somewhere will be willing to talk. Edward Burns is dead..."

"Yes and they probably killed him to shut him up. You think they won't kill anyone else that they think is getting too close to the truth?"

"You've heard from the Brooklyn DA?"

"No witnesses, no forensics...and the bullet came from a Tenfolio Titan."

"The same gun that shot Evelyn."

"More than likely. Ballistics are in the process of comparing the bullet recovered from Evelyn with that taken out of Burns's skull."

"Then that's good news."

"It still takes us nowhere," Adam said. "Not to mention the fact that both crimes took place in different jurisdictions and given that Burns is dead and Evelyn isn't...the Brooklyn DA wants to take charge of both cases."

"She was shot in Manhattan."

"I'm aware of that." Adam rubbed his forehead. "But I have to think about what's best for the office. We are drowning in cases as it is."

"Yes, but Adam...this is important! I mean, they're all important," Ben checked himself. "But this case..."

"I know..." Adam sighed. "I will find a slot for your motion, but you need to get someone else to argue it. Then, once we get a ruling...we can decide how to take things forwards."

"I know I'm right about this," Ben said, getting to his feet.

"I hope you are," Adam said. "Or we're all going to look pretty damn stupid."

XXXX

"Wow," Evelyn said, looking over Pamela's shoulder as she sat doing her homework at the table. "That's beautiful. I didn't know you were so good at drawing."

Pamela blushed and looked up, "You really think so?"

"I really do. I love how you've blended the colours together."

"Ms Clarke said that I should think about applying to art school."

"Really? Isn't it a little early to be thinking about things like that?" Evelyn stepped back over towards the kitchen where she could see steam rising from the pot of potatoes on the stove.

"She said if it was something I wanted to do then there was harm in thinking about it now."

"And is it something you want to do?"

Pamela shrugged, "Maybe."

"We could both end up world famous, Pam," Peter said, coming through from his room. "You in art, me in baseball."

"I thought you were thinking about law," Evelyn said, coming back into the room wiping her hands on a tea towel.

"I don't know, maybe," he shrugged. "If I don't make it into the big leagues." He paused. "Is Dad going to be late, again?"

"No, he called and said he should be home in about ten minutes. Just in time for dinner."

Peter observed her carefully. "Are you going to your husband's funeral tomorrow?"

Evelyn paused. "Yes, why?"

"Is Dad going with you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'd like him to be there with me..."

"No, I mean why are _you_ going? Didn't you hate him? Your husband?"

Evelyn fought down a smile at his simplistic way of looking at things and couldn't help feeling slightly surprised that the topic of her attending the funeral seemed to be at the forefront of everyone's minds. "Yes, I hated him...latterly at least. I guess I want to go just to say goodbye, that's all."

"Seems weird," he said.

"Really, why?"

"Well, if you hated him and you're glad he's dead, then why would you need to say goodbye? Why would you want to?"

She couldn't help but think he had a point, beyond his maturity. "You know, you're right," she nodded. "I guess it does seem weird. But I hope that you can just accept that's what I'm doing."

The front door opened before Peter could answer and Ben appeared, causing Pamela to leap off her chair, hurry over to hug him and then drag him back to the table to examine her artwork. Evelyn turned back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches to dinner, smiling as she heard him making all the right noises in the wake of his daughter's excitement over her impending artistic career.

"Thanks for doing dinner," he said, finally joining her in the kitchen and dropping a kiss onto her shoulder. "I tried to get away early but I got caught up."

"It's fine," she turned and kissed him gently. "It was either come home and make dinner or sit pointlessly in my office trying to decide which file to look at next. Coming home definitely seemed like the better option."

"I'm glad you think so," he said, as Peter came bounding into the room declaring that he was starving.

"Oh I do," she replied honestly as family life raged around her. "I really do."


	26. Chapter 26

**Enjoy folks and have a great weekend :)**

The sky was a hard grey, the colour of gun metal which, Evelyn couldn't help but think, seemed appropriate for the day of Edward's funeral. Every so often she was convinced that it was going to start raining but the atmosphere remained only threatening, though the wind was bitter. She hadn't slept much the previous night and had instead tossed and turned, replaying her decisions over and over again. What if people thought the funeral was too much or not enough? What if everyone simply spent the whole service staring at her? Would it make the papers? Should she feign illness and miss the whole thing? Peter's careful observations the previous evening hadn't been lost on her either. Why _would_ you feel the need to say goodbye to someone you hated?

When dawn broke, she awoke from the fog of troubled sleep showered, had breakfast and dressed almost on autopilot. Peter and Pamela left for school at their usual time leaving only her and Ben to rattle around in the apartment until it was time to leave.

"You're sure you want to do this?" he asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. "You really don't have to, you know."

"I know," she replied, trying to keep her irritation in check and reminding herself that it was only because he cared. "I'm sure." He hadn't said anything further, though she knew that he was fighting the urge to.

There were to be no funeral cars, something else that Susan hadn't approved of. Evelyn had told her mother that a cab would be fine and that she would simply meet her at the church, lest she had harboured any ideas of coming to the apartment and them all leaving together. There had been a brief silence at the other end of the phone before she had replied, "Fine dear, whatever you think." In that moment, Evelyn had wanted nothing more than to reach down the line and strangle the older woman. But ending up in a full blown argument at this point just seemed petty. There would be time later. Time to have conversations long overdue.

At ten-fifteen Ben called a cab. It arrived at ten-thirty and they made their way through the traffic downtown to the church. It wasn't a particular church, after all Edward had barely set foot in one since their wedding, but it had been available for the date that she had wanted and it was close enough to the bridge to facilitate his colleagues coming over from Brooklyn. She couldn't help but wonder how many of them she would remember.

"Are you alright?" Ben asked as the cab pulled to a halt outside.

"I'm fine," she snapped, then instantly felt remorseful. "I'm sorry," she squeezed his hand. "I'll just be glad when it's all over."

"If you want to leave at any time just say," he said. "I don't give a damn what anyone thinks if we walk out before the end."

"I love you," she said, grateful that he was there with her.

"I love you too," he kissed her gently. "I wish you didn't have to go through this."

"Well it shouldn't take long," she opened her door. "I can't imagine that are that many people who will be eager to talk to me."

Once inside, she was surprised by how many people had turned up, and how few she did in fact recognise. There were faces from the office, people she hadn't seen in almost a year, people she had lunched with, chatted about cases with, had drinks with...people who hadn't so much as bothered to check in to see if she was alright at any point since her leaving. It was hard when you realised that people you thought were your friends really weren't. There were other faces there too, people she didn't know, most likely Edward's friends from occasions when he didn't find it necessary for her to accompany him. She could feel all their eyes on her as she and Ben made their way down the aisle to the front and she found herself somewhat gratified to see her mother, Patricia, Claire and even Elizabeth sitting in the rows behind.

She felt awkward, painfully awkward and the five or so minutes it took between her arriving and the priest beginning the service seemed like a lifetime. As his words washed over her, she felt her mind drifting away, back to her wedding day when she had practically dragged her father down the aisle in her excitement to get to Edward and start their life together as man and wife. It had been in a church not unlike this one, with a priest not unlike the one standing in front of her. In April, it would be sixteen years since that day. What the hell had happened since?

She had let the priest choose the hymns, not really caring what they sang about or why. He had asked her if she wanted to say a few words or if she knew anyone who might want to do it in her stead. She had answered no to each question, irritated that he had even asked, and simply told him to do the bare minimum. She didn't want anyone giving a flowery eulogy. As far as she was concerned, Edward didn't deserve that.

The service was thankfully over relatively quickly and though she hesitated for a moment when the cab arrived to take them on to the cemetery, she simply took a deep breath and kept on going. Seeing her husband put in the ground would be symbolic if nothing else. Fortunately, it had stayed dry but as the priest began his final words, she felt the wind whip around her, chilling her to the bone and making her glad she had chosen to wear her warmest winter coat.

Then...it was over. The deed was done. She had fulfilled whatever last obligation she had had to Edward. Reaching for Ben's hand, she turned to look at him, feeling utterly drained. "Let's go home."

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the wake?" Susan asked from behind where she was standing with Patricia.

"I'm sure," Evelyn replied. "But you go if you want to."

"Well I'm sure we could use some coffee if nothing else," her mother replied, shifting from foot to foot. "Not to mention a proper seat. Are you just going to go home then?"

"Yes."

"Fine."

"Mrs Burns?" Before Susan could walk away, Evelyn turned to see a pretty, blonde haired woman dressed in black standing behind her, her expression slightly uncertain. "I'm Lily Arthur. I was a junior associate at your husband's firm."

"Hello," Evelyn greeted her politely.

"I don't expect you remember me."

"I'm sorry..."

"That's all right," Lily said. "I wanted to extend my condolences to you. I realise it must be a difficult time." Evelyn raised her eyebrows. "I mean, I understand everything that happened...the court case and all but...still..."

"Thank you," Evelyn said, glancing around in time to see Susan sidle closer to them, clearly eager to hear the exchange. "I appreciate that."

"I wanted to speak to you face to face. I thought it would be better than you simply getting a call from your lawyer."

She frowned and glanced at Ben who looked equally as confused as she felt. "My lawyer?"

"Yes," Lily nodded. "I mean...I want you to know that I'm not trying to get anything that I'm not entitled to...that _we're_ not entitled to...this is difficult I know...it's just...I don't know if Edward left a will...if he would have provided anything..."

"I'm sorry," Evelyn said, "I don't understand what you mean. What would you be entitled to? Who's _we_?"

"Uh...perhaps this isn't the time or the place..." Ben said hesitantly.

"Well, me and my son..." Lily pressed on. "His name's Jack. He's five. I'm sorry, I presumed that you didn't know and, like I said, I know this is difficult but..."

A cold shiver went through Evelyn's body. "You presumed I didn't know what?"

"Evelyn..." Ben pressed her arm. "Let's go."

"No..." she shook him off gently, her gaze still fixed on the woman in front of her. "You presumed I didn't know what?"

Lily paused. "That Jack is...was...Edward's son."

XXXX

"I don't know what to say," Susan said for the fiftieth time since they had arrived back at the apartment. "I just don't know what to say."

Ben tried to tune her out, focusing instead on the closed bathroom door behind which he knew Evelyn was hiding. After Lily Arthur's revelation she had descended into a kind of silent shock and had merely stood staring at the other woman until he had managed to gently coax her away from all the prying eyes and into a cab home. Susan, all thoughts of attending the wake forgotten, had initially started badgering her daughter as to whether or not she had known, until he had snapped and told her to be quiet. Undeterred, she had accompanied them in the cab back to the apartment and was giving no indication of wanting to leave.

"I just can't believe it," she said again from her position on the couch. "I just...can't believe it...Edward...had a son...?"

"Evelyn?" Ben moved away from her and knocked softly on the bathroom door. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"I've made coffee."

The door opened suddenly and she stood before him, her face pale, her eyes red. "I think I could use something a bit stronger than coffee." Moving past him into the kitchen, she opened the top cupboard and took out the vodka, pouring herself a generous measure before tossing in a splash of tonic. She took a large mouthful, made a face and then let out a long shaky breath. "You know..." she laughed bitterly, "Of all the things I thought might happen today...finding out my husband had a child with someone else wasn't one of them."

"She must have thrown herself at him," Susan said, rather unhelpfully. "I mean, she's not exactly a looker, is she?"

"She's young, blonde and pretty, Mom."

"But I mean...he was a married man! Five years ago? I mean, what were the two of you doing five years ago?"

Evelyn moved past Ben back into the living room and sank down into the easy chair, drawing her feet up underneath her. "1989...1990? Well Mom, I was being raped and abused, how about you?"

Susan bristled slightly and shifted uncomfortably, "That's not what I meant."

"I know."

"I mean...were things good between you two? Did you suspect that he was having an affair? Was it even an affair? Was it a one night stand?"

"I don't know. I didn't really feel like hanging around to find out," Evelyn snapped, taking another long drink and then laughing mirthlessly. "Jack...she even called him after Eddie's father. How touching." She paused and rubbed her forehead. "No doubt I'll be hearing from my lawyer in due course...I'm guessing the kid must be entitled to something."

"Nonsense!" Susan said. "You were his wife! You get the entire estate."

"From memory, that's not entirely correct," Ben said. "It's been a while since I studied any succession law but if Edward didn't leave a will..."

" _Is_ there no will?" Susan interrupted.

"They haven't been able to locate one," Evelyn replied, draining her glass. "The lawyer said that they're still looking."

"Well that's just preposterous! A lawyer! A man as meticulous in his business as Edward was? Of course there would be a will."

Evelyn closed her eyes briefly and then looked over at him, "So?"

"Well if there's no will, then I'm pretty sure that you would inherit a specific sum plus half of the remaining estate and any children would inherit the rest."

"But even if that were true," Susan said stridently, "the child is illegitimate!"

"It doesn't matter," Ben said, "not if paternity can be established and I'm guessing Ms Arthur wouldn't be pushing her case if she didn't have a positive test in her back pocket."

Evelyn let out a long sigh and put her head back against the rest. "I don't care about the money. If there even _is_ any after all the financial entanglements have been sorted out. The kid can have it all. There has to be some compensation for being the son of a rapist."

"Don't be ridiculous," Susan said leaning forwards, "You were his wife and, from what you've said it sounds like you deserve the money. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Evelyn. You can't expect Ben to keep you. Or me for that matter."

Evelyn raised her head slowly and met her mother's gaze and Ben felt himself freeze as he watched wondering, just for a moment, if Evelyn was going to leap out of the chair and hit her mother. "Get out Mom," she said finally.

"I'm sorry?" Susan said.

"I said, get out...please."

"But I'm only..."

"Please!" Evelyn put her head in her hands.

"I think it might be for the best if you go," Ben said diplomatically. "Obviously she's upset and she needs some time to process what's happened."

"I don't need you to speak for me!" Evelyn's head snapped up again. "I want you to get out Mom. I want you to get out and leave me alone!"

"Well..." Susan got her feet. "Fine I'll...I'll just go then." Snatching her bag from the couch she stalked towards the apartment door. "I'm sorry this has happened, Evelyn, I really am. Maybe once you're over the shock you'll realise that I'm only trying to support you."

"Support me..." Evelyn echoed as the apartment door closed behind Susan. "She doesn't know the meaning of the word." Getting up from the couch she walked purposefully back into the kitchen and poured herself another vodka. Ben followed, hovering in the doorway. "I suppose you're going to tell me I shouldn't be drinking."

"I'm not going to tell you anything," he replied. "I think you just need to...go with how you feel right now."

"How would you feel?" she asked. "How would you feel if you found out Laura had had a child with someone else while you were married?"

He elected to stay away from the logistical impossibility of her suggestion and merely shook his head. "I'd feel...angry, hurt, betrayed...but Evelyn..."

She drained another half glass and then turned to look at him again, her expression one of sheer devastation. "What was so wrong with me?" she asked. "What was so wrong with me that he could treat me the way he did, revel in every miscarriage I ever had and...and throw me down the fucking stairs? What did I do to make him do all those things and yet...yet he had a child with her..."

"You didn't do anything," Ben said, pulling her into his arms. "It was him...it was all him..."

"But why...?" she sobbed into his shoulder.

"I don't know," he stroked her hair gently. "I wish I did, but I don't. Maybe he didn't know about the child or maybe he didn't believe he was his." He fought for rational explanation. "Did you ever see any evidence of money going out of your account that you didn't know what it was for?"

She shook her head, "He controlled all the accounts. I never saw any statements or anything. Why do you think I didn't know anything about what he was paying the Luccheses'? He could have been paying child support to a hundred women and I would never have known." She pulled back, her face stained with tears. "I don't even know why I'm crying. I hated him. Why do I care that he fathered a child with someone else? I don't. I don't care." She moved out of his arms and emptied the remaining contents of her glass down her throat.

"You should eat something," he said sensibly. "I'll make you a sandwich."

"I'm not hungry," she replied. "But...I think I could do with a lie down. Do you mind?"

"Of course not." He watched as she dragged her feet across the living room and disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Despite what she had said, he made her a sandwich and brewed a fresh pot of coffee, carrying it through to the bedroom only to find her, lying atop the bed in her underwear, snoring softly, sleep having rapidly claimed her. Placing the cup and plate on the nightstand, he reached for the blanket at the bottom of the bed and laid it gently over her causing her to turn onto her side and pull it up around her chin.

For what seemed like an age, he stood and watched her sleep, studying the contours of her face and the tears that still streaked her cheeks. Just when he thought he had the measure of Edward Burns, just when he thought he couldn't dislike him anymore than he already did, something came along to blow his previous perceptions right out of the water. She had had a point in her quest for answers. How could he had been so adamantly against having a child with her and yet procreate with someone else?

Shaking his head, he stole out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him, hoping that she would at least sleep soundly for a few hours. He had brought some work home with him the previous evening but as he spread it out on the table and tried to concentrate, he found that he couldn't. He might have been shocked at first when she had told him that she was pregnant, but he had wanted their baby. Wanted it so badly and had had no choice in its demise. How could any man treat impending fatherhood with such disdain?

Though, for many reasons, the idea frightened him, Ben suddenly felt a burning desire to give Evelyn another child. Another chance. An attempt to show her how it was really meant to be. If she wanted it, he would gladly oblige and then he would wrap her up in cotton wool for nine months and nurture and protect her.

The way a husband and father was meant to.


	27. Chapter 27

**Just an extra weekend treat :)**

 **I'm impressed by the early morning review Cynthia, thank you!**

 **Two weeks later**

 **February 1994**

"Well, it's been confirmed. The lab test is accurate. Edward is the father of Ms Arthur's son." Robert Logan sat back in his chair and stroked his beard carefully. "You don't look surprised."

"I'm not," Evelyn replied. "Why would I be? Why would she have approached me if she hadn't been a hundred percent sure?" She leaned back in her chair and surveyed her probate attorney, the one Veronica had recommended when it had become abundantly clear that divorce was no longer an option. "So where do we go from here?"

"Well, we've established, somewhat surprisingly, that Edward did not in fact have a will." "Stupid bastard."

"Quite. That being the case, New York law states that a spouse, that's you, is entitled to the first fifty thousand dollars of any estate plus half the remaining balance and any children are entitled to the other half. So, if Edward had had an estate totalling a million dollars, you would have been entitled to five hundred and twenty five thousand and the child to four hundred and seventy five thousand."

"Wow..." Evelyn breathed. "Quite a windfall."

"Needless to say, we're not talking that much."

"Well how much _are_ we talking?"

Robert lifted the papers in front of him, "Well, I'm afraid that the house in Sag Harbor and the apartment in Manhattan are now owned by the bank..."

"So even though he remortgaged both without my knowledge, I can't do anything?"

"No, I'm sorry. You already received a payment from Edward from your joint savings account last year and there is a balance remaining of three hundred thousand dollars. There are some shares held in a couple of restaurants in Lower Manhattan and there is Edward's share of his company, Burns & Associates."

Evelyn paused, "What do you mean Edward's _share?_ He owned the company. It passed to him after his father died."

"That might have been the case at one time but at the time of his death he only held a forty nine percent share."

"Well who owns the rest?"

"Fifty one percent is owned by...a limited company, O'Reilly Limited."

Evelyn felt a shiver run through her at the mention of the name and thought, not for the first time, that Ben was taking his sweet time in getting the motion to examine Laura's phone records heard, though she knew the thought itself was uncharitable.

"The shares form part of the estate," Robert continued. "So they will also have to be divided between yourself and Ms Arthur's son. All in all, you can expect to receive a hundred and seventy five thousand dollars, a twenty four point five percent interest in Burns & Associates and a miniscule amount of shares in the restaurants. Little Jack Burns will inherit a hundred and twenty five thousand dollars and an identical share in the company, although it will of course require to be held in trust for him until such time as he comes of age."

Evelyn shook her head. It wasn't the money, she couldn't have cared less about that...it was everything else. Since she had learned of Edward's infidelity, and the child that had been born of it, she had been able to think about little else. She had thought back to the time when Lily must have fallen pregnant and the time when Jack would have been born and tried to remember if Edward had seemed at all different at those times. Try as she might, however, it was all just one horrible blur.

"I don't want the shares," she said finally.

Robert raised his eyebrows, "Why not? The firm is very profitable..."

"I don't want them," she repeated, "nor do I want whatever shares he had in dirty Mob restaurants. Jack can have all of them. I won't turn my nose up at the hundred and seventy five thousand but as for the rest..."

"Only if you're sure," he cautioned her. "If you sign away your right to inherit the shares, there would be no changing your mind later."

"I realise that. Out of interest...was Edward paying Lily Arthur any child support?"

"Five hundred dollars a month."

Evelyn let out a long breath, "And I never even had an inkling."

"I'm sorry," Robert said, "I can only imagine how painful this all is for you, on top of everything else. I'll try to push matter along as quickly as I can but sometimes these things take time."

"It's fine," she said, getting to her feet. "The money will help but it's hardly going to change my life. I can wait." She paused. "I don't know if this is a stupid question or not..."

"Go on?"

"Can I revert to using my maiden name again, or is there some sort of rule that I have to wait until the estate is finalised?"

Robert smiled sympathetically. "You can call yourself whatever you want, Evelyn. Mrs Burns...Ms Nicholls..."

 _Mrs Stone..._ she thought to herself, nodding her thanks and letting herself out of his office. At least, that was what Ben wanted and seemingly the sooner the better.

XXXX

"Dad?"

"Hmmm?"

"What's the worst case you've ever worked on?"

Ben lifted his head from where he had been studying medical records for an upcoming trial and raised his eyebrows at his son's question. "Why are you asking me that?"

"I just wondered," Peter replied from his position at the other side of the desk, his homework books spread out in front of him. "You must have had some pretty bad ones."

"Yes I have, and one day I might tell you about them, but if you don't want to be doing that homework at your mother's this weekend then I suggest you focus more on math than on my cases."

"But your cases sound much more interesting than math," Peter said, putting his pen down and leaning back in his chair. "I bet you don't even _need_ math to be an Executive Assistant District Attorney."

Ben smiled, feeling warmed by the slight note of pride that he detected in Peter's tone. "Actually you do," he replied. "How do you think I work out sentencing?"

Peter paused and nodded, "I guess that makes sense."

"I guess it does."

"But you must have at least _one_ juicy case you can tell me about?"

Ben sighed and shook his head. Peter was supposed to be at baseball practice, but it had been cancelled due to the weather and while Pamela was at her art club until five, he had told his son that he could come to the office straight after school on condition that he completed all his homework and tried not to get into trouble. Though he clearly was going to get little done himself with his curious son asking questions, and having wanted a clear desk before the weekend, it nevertheless gratified him that Peter had become so interested in the law.

"Define juicy," he said, putting the papers to one side.

"I don't know...a good gruesome murder or something."

"Well, it's not so much gruesome as it was interesting...out of the ordinary," Ben said, thinking back. "A young boy was driving a car down a street when he suddenly had a heart attack and died, crashing the car in the process. Now, it turned out that he had had a pacemaker fitted some years earlier made by a company called BioNorm. The police discovered that the company had bought wire leads from an unscrupulous manufacturer and rather than simply discard them and take a financial hit, the owner of the company decided to use the wire leads anyway and take the risk that the pacemaker would malfunction."

"Wow," Peter said, leaning forward. "So the kid in the car had one of the dodgy ones?"

Ben nodded. "The owner of the company tried to persuade his son to take the blame. He had been a technician on the assembly line and initially hadn't noticed the defective leads. When he realised what had happened, he begged his father to recall all the pacemakers that had used the leads but his father refused. Five people died in total."

"So...did the father go to jail?"

"Twenty-five years to life multiplied by five," Ben replied. "If you can tell me what that is without using your calculator I'll buy you something from the vending machine." He smiled as he watched Peter's brow furrow as he mentally tried to calculate the total number of years and was about to remind him how useful math was after all, when the door of his office opened and Claire appeared, a satisfied look on her face.

"Good news," she said. "You've got a slot for your motion hearing, Monday at 10am before Judge Bertram."

"Great!" Ben enthused. "Finally. Is Jack going to be free to argue it?"

"I think so. It was closing arguments in the Foster case today and we're just waiting on the verdict. I was just going to head over to his office and tell him. But if he can't, I don't mind doing it if you want to prep me."

"That sounds like a good idea...oh Claire," Ben gestured toward Peter. "This is my son, Peter. Peter, this is Claire Kincaid, one of the assistants here."

In direct contrast to his usual unstoppable chatter, Peter simply stared at Claire, his eyes widening slightly, his cheeks starting to turn pink and his mouth pumping uselessly with no sound coming out.

"It's nice to meet you Peter," Claire said. "I've heard a lot about you. You working with your dad today?"

"He was meant to be at baseball practice but..."

"Oh yeah, the rain...I don't blame you for preferring to be inside." She smiled warmly and glanced at his books. "Math? Ouch. I hated it when I was your age. Couldn't wait to drop it."

"Yeah...uh...yeah..." Peter said. "I...uh...yeah..."

Claire met Ben's gaze and smiled again. "Well, I'd better leave you to it. I'll let you know about Monday."

"Great, thanks," Ben said as she slipped out, closing the door behind her. After a few seconds, Peter turned to look at him, a shell-shocked expression on his face. "What's the matter?"

"She...um...she..."

"She? You mean Claire?"

Peter nodded, "Yeah...Claire..." he took a breath. "Dad...wow, she's hot."

Ben paused, "Excuse me?"

"She's hot!" Peter got out of his seat and moved over to the window, craning his neck to catch another glimpse of Claire as she moved down the corridor. "How...I mean...how do you get any work done?"

Though he had known it was always going to come, the thought of his son, his baby son, being interested in girls, least of all women, surprised Ben more than he had imagined it would. "Quite easily."

"I mean...I know you have Evelyn and she's pretty but...wow..." Peter turned back, his eyes shining. "Does she have a boyfriend?"

"I wouldn't know. Besides, she's far too old for you. You're only fifteen! You shouldn't even be thinking about girls yet."

"I'll be sixteen next month."

"And Claire must be at least ten years older than you."

"You're ten years older than Evelyn. Eleven, once you have your birthday tomorrow."

"That's different," Ben said, shuffling the papers on his desk. "Anyway, what was the answer to that question I asked you?"

"Well, twenty five multiplied by five would be a hundred and twenty-five, but I guess it would depend on how long the person was going to live, right?"

"Right," Ben conceded.

"Anyway," Peter said, grinning inanely, all thoughts of schoolwork clearly forgotten. "Who cares?"

XXXX

As she approached the apartment door, Evelyn worked hard to establish her game face. It wasn't easy, pretending she felt differently about things when she was with other people than when she was alone. Alone she could brood, go over things in her mind, question every little thing that had happened between herself and Edward, trying desperately to find some clue that pointed towards him having a child. At work, or at home with Ben and the kids, she had to pretend that it didn't matter.

The following day was Ben's birthday and she was determined to try and put all negative thoughts from her mind. They had four tickets to the afternoon Rangers game and then Peter and Pamela were catching the train to Hartford while she and Ben checked into a pretty nice hotel on Park Avenue for dinner and an overnight in one of their suites. The dinner had been her idea, the hotel room his. She knew that he was hoping a change of scene might encourage her to offer a little more than the chaste goodnight kiss she had proffered every night since Edward's funeral.

To Ben's credit, he hadn't tried to persuade her otherwise, verbally or physically. There had been no cajoling, no pleading, no demanding...his hands hadn't wandered down her body to the point where she had had to say no. He had simply accepted that she wasn't in the mood and lain beside her. She felt bad, especially when she thought back to Thanksgiving when he hadn't wanted to sleep with her and how it had made her feel at the time...but something was just blocking her emotions at the moment. Perhaps he was right, perhaps a change of scene was all that was needed.

When she stepped inside, she found Pamela laying the table for dinner and could hear Ben and Peter chatting in the kitchen. Hanging up her coat, she squeezed Pamela's shoulder affectionately and made her way towards the sound of voices.

"Peter, the answer is no," Ben said, his tone slightly weary.

"But I wouldn't get in the way."

"No. You're perfectly capable of studying here or at school. There's no need for you to be at my office every day." Catching sight of her, he moved over and kissed her gently. "Hi."

"Hi," Evelyn replied. "What are we debating?"

"Peter wants to come to my office every day after school to do his homework," Ben replied. "At least he _claims_ that's his motive but I rather suspect it has more to do with him having a little crush on a certain Miss Kincaid."

"Do you know her?" Peter asked.

"Yes, of course," Evelyn replied. "She's really nice."

"She's really hot."

"Peter..." Ben rolled his eyes. "Go and help your sister finish setting the table. Dinner won't be long."

"Ok," Peter grinned. "And after dinner we can watch my movie, right?"

"Right..." Ben sighed as his son loped out into the living room. "I'm sorry, I'm pretty sure it was your turn to choose the movie tonight but he dragged me into the video store on the way home and, quite frankly, it was a useful distraction from all his talk about Claire."

Evelyn laughed and lifted a stray pepper from the chopping board. "Dare I ask what film he picked?"

"Oh some sort of comedy horror...I don't know. It'll probably give Pamela nightmares whatever it is." He paused. "How did it go with your attorney?"

"I'm getting a hundred and seventy five thousand," she replied, biting into the vegetable. "I told him that I didn't want any shares in Edward's firm or anything else."

"And the paternity test?"

"Accurate."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't care," she replied, waving her arm dismissively. "It's in the past. As soon as I get the money it will be over. Finished. Done. I'm going to revert back to my maiden name too. As of now actually."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Being Ms Nicholls again?" She paused, thinking of the right word to describe her feelings. "Free."

All further mention of Edward or anything connected with him was soon forgotten as the four of them sat down to dinner together. Pamela talked about her art club, her face lighting up with enthusiasm as she described contouring and shading. Peter talked about how he was nervous about the baseball game a week on Saturday, especially as it was the first one he had played in since switching schools. Once dinner was finished, the kids rushed into the kitchen to start clearing up, leaving Ben and Evelyn alone at the table.

"I meant to say," Ben said. "We've got a slot for the motion hearing. Monday at 10am."

"That's good," Evelyn replied. "Who did you draw?"

"Judge Bertram."

"Well, you could have done worse."

"Fortunately, Jack's free to argue it. You'll have heard that the Foster verdict came in today."

"Yeah, Shambala was pretty pleased with herself."

"With an acquittal she should be."

Evelyn met his gaze. "You don't approve of the verdict."

Ben shrugged, "It's not for me to say. The jury heard all the evidence...maybe it wasn't as black and white as I thought it was."

"What wasn't?" Peter asked, coming back over to the table.

"Nothing," Ben replied. "Are you wanting to set up this movie then?"

"Yes!"

"Ok, just give me a second to change," Evelyn said, excusing herself and hurrying into the bedroom to get out of her work clothes and into her slouchy tracksuit. It was neither flattering nor fashionable, but she didn't care. Pulling her hair out of its clips, she shook it free and quickly ran a brush through it before heading to the bathroom to scrub off her makeup.

"You look younger with no makeup on," Pamela observed when she returned to the living room.

"Is that good or bad?" she asked, sitting down on the couch beside Ben.

"Good, obviously," Peter replied. "Who wants to look forty? Or fifty-one," he grinned at his father.

"Just put the movie on," Ben chided him, sliding his arm around Evelyn's back. "And it better be half decent or it's going straight off."

The movie, _Zombie Bloodbath,_ was typically terrible. Try as she might, Evelyn couldn't get into the plot and, halfway through, volunteered to go and make the popcorn.

"I can pause it," Peter said, lifting the remote.

"No, it's fine. I'll still be able to hear it from the kitchen," she replied, getting off the couch and padding through to stick the popcorn packet in the microwave. As she watched it rotate round and round she couldn't help but wonder if it would have been like this had any of her previous pregnancies survived. Would she and Edward have fostered Friday movie night or would he had been out somewhere with God knows who? Would they have sat together comfortably on the couch the way she and Ben did or would she had been tense, wondering what was going to happen when they eventually retired to bed? Would Edward have been a good father or would he have been cold and distant, leaving her with the lion's share of raising her child?

The truth was, she would never know. She would never know why he had been so against fatherhood with her, why he had seemed horrified at the very prospect of it...and it was that lack of knowledge, that never knowing, that was eating her up so much inside.

"Everything alright?" Ben asked, breaking into her thoughts and she suddenly realised the microwave was beeping.

"Yes, sorry," she said, opening the door and pulling the packet out carefully. "I was miles away." He said nothing as she got a bowl, gently peeled open the packet and tipped the contents out, but when she turned to him, she could see in his eyes that he was desperate to say something. "You really dropped the ball letting him pick this movie," she joked. "It's, quite frankly, terrible."

"I know," he said, taking the bowl from her. "Like I said, it was a distraction from him going on about Claire."

Evelyn laughed, "Lucky Claire."

"Oh you think so?"

"Absolutely," she quipped. "What I wouldn't give to be adored by a handsome young man."

Ben put the bowl back on the counter and slid his arms around her. "You're already adored by a handsome young man."

"Handsome I can agree with, but young..." she shook her head. "Fifty-one tomorrow, remember?"

"Let me get you into that hotel suite and I'll show you just how young I am," he murmured, kissing the side of her neck. A pleasant shiver ran through her body and when she pulled back, she could tell he had noticed.

 _Stop thinking about Edward. Stop thinking about things that you'll never get the answers to. Stop torturing yourself. Stop...stop...stop..._

"Where's the popcorn?" Pamela demanded, suddenly appearing at the kitchen door.

"It's here," Ben said, lifting the bowl and handing it to her.

"Well," she said staring at them. "Are you coming?"

"Yes," Evelyn said, squeezing Ben's hand gently. "We're coming."


	28. Chapter 28

**Enjoy everyone!**

 **Warning for very light smut :)**

"This is lovely," Evelyn said appreciatively as she stepped inside the hotel suite. "It's bigger than I thought it would be." The room was decorated in a soft cream with a thick carpet that she could just imagine sinking her toes into. An impressively sized bed sat against one wall then there were two cream couches, a mini fridge and a television in the seating area. A sliding door revealed a large, freestanding roll top bath and walk in shower. "In fact, this is ridiculous." She turned to where Ben was standing behind her. "It's like the honeymoon suite."

"Maybe it is," he shrugged nonchalantly, putting their bags on the floor.

"Ben..."

"I'm kidding...but it _is_ nice."

"I was going to say that you should have let me pay for this seeing as it's your birthday but now..." she shook her head. "I think one night would clean me out."

"I'm not asking you to pay for it," he said, slipping his arms around her waist and kissing the back of her neck. "I just want you to enjoy it with me. It's been a long time since I've had anyone to share a birthday with."

"What did you do last year for the big one?" she asked.

"Not much." He wandered into the bathroom and looked at the tub. "I reckon we could make good use of this after dinner."

Evelyn smiled and hung her dress bag up on the nearest wardrobe door. The hotel was pretty exclusive and she had certainly not wanted to take any chances on being out of place in the dining room, so she had picked out a modest, but appropriate, green cocktail dress to wear and hoped that it would do her justice. It had been a long time since she had had the chance to dress up, not since the dinner at the Algonquin and the less said about that night the better. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she tested out the mattress a few times to find it firm but generous and then lay back to look at the detailed cornicing on the ceiling.

It had been a good day so far. The kids had woken them that morning with a somewhat tuneless rendition of _Happy Birthday,_ before presenting their father with his cards and gifts, namely a new silver pen that Peter proudly said he had purchased all by himself, albeit with the help of some of Pamela's pocket money, and a drawing that Pamela had done of Central Park, the detail and professionalism of which had taken both their breaths away. After the initial furore had died down and the kids had both disappeared, on the pretext of making breakfast, Evelyn had given Ben her present, a gold watch that she had seen a few weeks earlier in a jewellers and knew he would like. She hadn't been wrong. For a moment, she had thought that he was going to cry when he saw the simple inscription _To B, love E_ on the back, but instead he had simply pulled her to him and kissed her gratefully.

At lunchtime they had all headed out to grab a quick bite near the Garden before the game which, gratifyingly, the Rangers had won. Then Peter and Pamela had cheerfully got on the train to Hartford and she and Ben had collected their overnight bags and headed to the hotel. In the whole space of the day, she hadn't given thought once to Edward or Lily or little Jack and had felt all the happier for it, but as she lay there, the insidious thoughts started creeping back into her mind again.

She felt the mattress dip and Ben slid onto the bed beside her. "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh...just what a nice day's it's been," she replied, pushing the darkness away.

"It's not over yet," he reminded her. "We are going to get all dressed up and go and have an amazing dinner, then we're going to come back up here, I'm going to peel your dress from your body, we're going to get in that tub and have some fun, then we're going to come back to this bed...why are you laughing?"

Evelyn rolled over to face him and touched his chin gently. "You don't have to try so hard."

"Don't I?"

She paused, once again thinking back to their recent lack of sexual intimacy. Even the previous evening after their brief encounter in the kitchen, she still hadn't felt right in doing anything other than kissing him goodnight.

"I'm sorry," he said, clearly taking her silence for offence, "I didn't mean..."

"No," she interrupted him. " _I'm_ sorry. I haven't been fair to you lately. It's just..."

"You don't have to explain. I understand."

"I know you do." She leaned forward and kissed him gently, only for him to pull her up and on top of him, settling her where she could quite clearly feel how much he desired her. The sensation brought a smile to her face and she pushed all thoughts and images of Edward and the past from her mind.

"I like the view from here," he quipped, reaching up and slowly undoing the buttons on her shirt, causing it to fall open. Instinctively, she took his hands and placed them on her waist as she shrugged the material from her shoulders and then reached behind herself to unclip her bra. Automatically, he raised himself up to meet her breasts, his mouth latching on to one hardened nipple after another and she closed her eyes, feeling her body shudder with desire. When she opened them again, he was looking at her, almost questioningly.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "Did you want to wait until after dinner?"

"I'm not sure I can," he replied honestly.

"Well then," she bent and kissed him again. "Let's work up an appetite."

XXXX

Like two naughty teenagers, caught up in the thrill of newly discovered intimacy, they stumbled slightly into the elevator and Ben could only be grateful that the car was empty. Gently, he pressed Evelyn up against the wall and kissed her again, his hand straying down to the hem of her dress and the bare flesh below, teasing her as he skimmed her thigh, his mind still firmly on the previous hour and what had transpired therein.

"Enough..." she laughed, pushing him away. "We're in an extremely upmarket establishment you know."

"I know," he agreed, moving back and kissing her neck, "but you can hardly blame me, can you? Not when you look, and feel, so incredible."

"In this old thing?"

He surveyed her with a mockingly critical eye. "Colour's good, length's perfect, just the right amount of cleavage on show..."

"Stop it..." she laughed as the elevator hummed to a halt and the doors opened out into the foyer. Ben reached for her hand and they walked out together and turned towards the dining room where, upon giving their room number, they were shown to a table near the window. Ever the gentleman, he pulled her chair out for her before seating himself.

"Will you be having wine?" the waiter asked.

"Oh I think so," he replied, "or would you rather have champagne?"

"Wine is fine," Evelyn replied, raising her eyebrows as the waiter handed him the wine list. "White, if possible."

He selected what he knew to be a good, sweet white and then reached across the table to take her hands in his. "I meant what I said earlier."

"Which part?" she lowered her voice. "Most of it isn't repeatable."

"The part about it being a long time since I've had anyone to share a birthday with. I'm not saying it to make you feel sorry for me, or to upset you," he added hurriedly as he saw her eyes grow sad. "Rather, just so you know how special you are to me."

She squeezed his hands, "So what _did_ you do last year?"

"Like I said, not much. The kids called in the morning, but I think that was more due to Laura's prompting than anything else. It was a Friday so I was at work, mid trial if I remember rightly, and then..." he trailed off, thinking back to how lonely it really had been.

"And then what?"

"Spent the evening at home alone."

"You mean you didn't go to your jazz bar and try to pick someone up?" she teased lightly.

"I thought about it," he admitted, "but it would have been meaningless and would probably only have made me feel worse in the long run. I wish I'd known then that less than a year later I would find you."

"Well if you want company for your misery, this time last year I wasn't happy either."

"Your birthday's in April and you were forty last year...so what did you do on the big day?"

She made a face, "Well I had left Eddie and I was holed up at my mother's apartment...she was trying to persuade me to call some friends and go out to celebrate but...well...I couldn't really think of anyone to call. I ordered Chinese food and watched bad television and she went out instead."

"We're two of a kind," he said softly as the waiter approached with menus.

"Yeah," she agreed, drawing her hands back. "I guess we are."

Once they had ordered, the conversation turned to generalities; the kids, the weather, work...she was due to start a trial the following week that she wasn't particularly looking forward to given that her client was "a complete and utter asshole" and they talked about the motion hearing set for Monday.

"The fact that O'Reilly Limited own a significant share in Eddie's firm has to count for something," Evelyn opined.

"He never told you about that?"

"No, he conveniently left that part out."

"If we can prove that there was a call made from Laura's phone the evening we left Hartford and if we can prove that it was received by anyone connected to the Lucchese family, then that's a huge step forward in finding out who carried out the shooting," Ben said.

"I'm trying not to get my hopes up too high, just in case."

"That's understandable. But we're going to get these people, Evelyn," he said decisively. "One way or another, we are going to get them."

She nodded in solidarity with his thought, but he could tell that she wasn't entirely convinced and he decided to seize the moment to mention something that had been preying on his mind as they were presented with their starters. "There's something else I've been thinking about."

"What's that?"

"Well, I know we haven't really talked about it again, not since you found out about Edward but..." he filled up both their glasses. "I was wondering whether it might be a good idea for us to consider trying for another baby."

Her reaction wasn't quite what he expected. She lifted her spoon and started eating as though he had suggested something innocuous, like another bottle of wine, rather than a potentially life changing event. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if she hadn't in fact heard him and he opened his mouth to repeat his statement.

"I don't think so," she said, before he could speak.

"You don't think it's a good idea?"

"No."

He paused, weighing up whether to leave it there or push it further. "You know how much I love you," he said, deciding on the latter course of action. "You know how much I want to make you happy and...well...before the shooting...you were happy about being pregnant, weren't you?"

Evelyn looked up. "Yes, of course. When you told me that _you_ were happy about it and that you would be there for me...it was all I had ever wanted to hear."

"And I can say all that again, without question," he said. "I know I'm not getting any younger and some people might think it was a crazy idea..." he broke off as she shook her head. "Surely it's worth talking about?"

"I think...I think that with everything that's happened and the fact that Eddie had a child already, I...I don't know...I guess I'm just slowly coming to the realisation that children, biological children, just aren't in life's plan for me."

The words were said so softly, without any undertone of bitterness or recrimination and yet they struck him far deeper than he would have imagined. "It doesn't have to be that way. We could try and, if it worked, I would make sure that you had the best prenatal care...I would look after you..."

"I know, I don't doubt you."

"Like I said, I want to make you happy..."

"I can be happy without a baby," she said, placing her spoon gently down into her plate. "Can't I? Can't we?"

"Of course, but..."

"Then let's just focus on that," she said, reaching for his hand again. "I've been unhappy for such a long time Ben."

"I know. I just didn't want you to think that I wasn't prepared to do it...to have a child with you."

She squeezed his hand, her expression without judgment. "You would be doing it to make me happy, not because you really wanted it."

"That's not..." he started and then stopped as she smiled understandingly at him and realised that she was right. Of course he would have had a child with her if that's what she had wanted. He would have loved seeing her body swell and feeling the movements deep inside and welcoming another little Stone into the world. But he was fifty-one, not thirty-five or even thirty-seven as he had been when Peter and Pamela were born. In a few years, they would fly the nest and he would have been lying if he had said that he hadn't foreseen a future with Evelyn filled with time spent alone together, rather than caring for an infant.

The waiter reappeared and lifted their dishes away, causing them to break apart again.

"Anyway," Evelyn said brightly, reaching for her glass. "I think I'll probably make a much better stepmother than I would a biological mother."

"What makes you say that?" he asked carefully.

"In theory, I should get all the good bits and none of the disciplining," she smiled. " _That_ will all be down to you."

XXXX

She loved him. God...how she loved him.

Not just for the incredible sex, the memory of which made her want to blush and glance around the room in case anyone could tell what had been going on in their room, but for what he had just said. She knew that honesty was a huge thing for Ben, and if he had wanted to he could have told her that he was desperate for them to have a baby, that it was all he thought about, that it was absolutely how he saw the next eighteen years of his life.

He hadn't said that. He had been honest with her and while some women might have taken it badly, in reality she was glad that she knew how he truly felt. The fact that he would have gone through parenthood again for her warmed her heart, but she had been honest with him too and motherhood now seemed like something other people did.

Besides, she had Peter and Pamela. They were her family now.

"Maybe we should get married here," he said suddenly.

Evelyn started slightly and looked at him across the table, her fork frozen halfway to her mouth. "What, tonight?"

"No..." he laughed. "Not tonight, but sometime in the future. Sometime soon."

"I can only imagine what it must cost to have a wedding here."

"So?"

"So, we couldn't afford it."

"I could."

"Ben...you don't have to jump from one serious, life-changing conversation topic right to another, you know."

"I'm just saying...it's a nice setting." He sat back and took a drink from his wine glass. "If not here, where did you have in mind?"

She paused and looked down into her plate. Being honest would mean telling him that she hadn't really given it a lot of thought of late but that when she had, she had concluded that simple was best. "I was thinking more along the lines of City Hall."

It was his turn to look surprised. "City Hall? Seriously?"

"Yes," she met his gaze. "We've both been married before. We've both had big, white church weddings with all the trimmings...you weren't seriously thinking about something like that for a second time, were you?"

"Well, not a church given I'm divorced...but I thought you might have wanted something a little more than just City Hall."

"It's about us making a commitment to each other, right? Does it really matter where we do that?"

"No...I suppose it doesn't matter. Were you planning on us having any guests or just slipping out during our lunch hour?"

"Of course I was thinking about a few people. The kids, my mother...yours if she'll come...a few friends..."

"Ok."

"You don't agree?"

He smiled at her again. "I suppose I was just looking forward to showing you off to everyone as my wife."

"You can do that whether we get married at City Hall or the Plaza."

"The Plaza!" His eyes lit up mischievously. "Now _there's_ an idea."

She laughed as the waiter returned with their main courses, glad that a potentially awkward moment had been avoided. It wasn't that she didn't share his desire to show everyone how happy they were, how happy it was possible to be second time around after various difficult pasts, but after everything that had happened, after her picture being in the papers during the trial...she couldn't help but wish for some anonymity, some peace.

She didn't think that was too much to ask.

The rest of the meal passed extremely pleasantly and after dessert, another bottle of wine and some liqueurs, Evelyn could feel the effects of the alcohol when she stood up to leave the table. Thankfully, Ben slid his arm around her waist as they left the dining room and headed back to the elevator, so she was in no danger of falling over and disgracing herself. When they got back to the room, he immediately started running the bath, pouring into far too much product in the process, so that when they eventually got in they could barely see each other for the froth and bubbles.

"Maybe we should order some more wine," he said.

"Maybe we shouldn't bother," she laughed, enjoying the sensation of his hand on her thigh beneath the water. "I think we've both had enough. Thank goodness neither of us is driving first thing."

"There has to be _some_ compensation for living in the city."

"Don't you like it?"

He shrugged, "It's all I've known for a long time now, but that doesn't mean there isn't part of me that likes to think about ending my days in a house somewhere upstate with land and trees and grandkids playing on tyre swings in the back yard."

"Ending your days?" she giggled, "You're fifty-one, Ben, not eighty."

"You don't like the idea?"

She paused and tried to visualise what he was saying. It sounded idyllic. She could imagine the long, sweeping drive...opening the door to see Peter and Pamela and their kids coming to stay for the weekend...hear the shrieks of laughter...idyllic.

"Maybe one day," she said. "But I'm over ten years younger than you, remember? And I've lived in the city all my life so it would have to be a pretty damn good house to get me out."

Ben shifted in the bath, causing water to slop over the edges and made his way over towards her. "I could make it a pretty damn good house," he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her neck. "Plenty of bedrooms. One for each night of the week."

She giggled again as his mouth moved lower, blowing the froth from her chest and suckling her once again. She could feel him, hard again beneath her and, shifting herself upwards, slowly sank down onto him, conveniently putting out of her mind every article she had ever read that claimed sex in water wasn't good for your pH balance.

And she thought about the future...her future...her future with him and his children and grandchildren and a house upstate with at least seven bedrooms and a tyre swing in the back yard.


	29. Chapter 29

**Apologies for the delay. The weather has been nice!**

 **Enjoy :)**

"Objection!"

"Sustained. Ms Nicholls..." Judge Stein frowned down from the bench. "I've warned you before about that line of questioning. Get off it!"

"Sorry," Evelyn replied, trying to stop the smile playing at the corner of her mouth. In reality, she wasn't sorry at all. For the first time in a long time she was actually enjoying being in court, enjoying the cut and thrust of a trial and, even though her client was, as she had told Ben, 'a complete asshole' she was doing the best job she could for him by trying to confound the State's witnesses, exactly the job she was paid for. She knew it was only the first day of trial, the first day back at work since her night away with Ben and the first day she had asked to be addressed as her maiden name in court, but she felt a lightness within and could almost remember what it had been like to first start out on this road. "Mrs Brown..." she turned back to the woman sitting in the witness box who was looking at her suspiciously. "You said that you saw the defendant leaving the apartment at eleven-thirty."

"Yes."

"And _how_ was he leaving?"

The witness frowned, "I don't follow."

"Well was he walking, running...maybe he was skipping or hopping...?"

"Objection..."

"Withdrawn," Evelyn replied. "How was he leaving the apartment, Mrs Brown?"

"He was moving quickly," the witness replied.

"Moving quickly...ok...and was he with anyone?"

"No, he was alone."

"So...it's eleven-thirty at night, in the middle of winter, it's cold and dark and you're absolutely sure that it was Mr Conner that you saw that evening?" She gestured to the defence table where her client was sitting, ramrod straight and steely eyed.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"You couldn't be mistaken?"

"No."

"But you were with your husband, as you testified, having a heated argument."

"I said we were having a conversation."

"Well, in fact, you called it a 'disagreement', "Evelyn checked her notes. "So, you're arguing with your husband, it's cold and dark, the lighting on the street isn't that great..."

"The lighting was fine," the witness said, "and we weren't arguing."

"Isn't it possible that in the heat of your 'disagreement' and faced with the other conditions I've mentioned, that you could be mistaken about your identification?"

The witness paused, "No."

"You don't sound that sure. Isn't it possible that you made a mistake?"

"Objection, asked and answered."

Judge Stein paused, "Overruled. The witness will answer."

"Well?" Evelyn pushed, "isn't it possible?"

The witness glanced at the defendant and then back at her, "I didn't make a mistake."

"Mrs Brown, we've established that it was dark, that you were arguing with your husband..." "Your Honour..."

"Enough Ms Nicholls."

Evelyn shrugged casually in the direction of the jury, "I have no more questions." She made her way back over to the table where her client, Timothy Conner, looked less than impressed. "Shut up," she said quietly, but firmly as he opened his mouth to, presumably, offer his opinion as to where she had gone wrong. For someone with no formal training in, quite frankly anything, he was always keen to offer an unqualified opinion and it had taken all of two seconds after meeting him for her to realise why Shambala had been 'unavailable' to take the case.

"Your Honour, given the hour..." ADA Frank Lake rose gracefully from his seat.

"Yes," Judge Stein glanced at the clock. "We'll recess until after lunch." She banged her gavel and left the bench.

"You should have got that idiot woman to say it wasn't me," Timothy hissed.

"Well if you think you could have done any better, feel free to conduct the rest of your trial _pro se,_ " Evelyn replied, sliding some papers into her briefcase. "It's no skin off my nose." He looked at her as though she had lost her mind. "I didn't think so. Be back here before two. It's likely you'll be giving evidence before the end of the day."

"But it's only the first day," he protested. "I've seen trials on television and they usually last weeks if not months!"

She tried to smother down a laugh and failed miserably. "This isn't television, Mr Conner. For the record, and as I told you right at the beginning, this is a pretty straightforward case."

"But..."

"Please..." she said, trying to keep herself from punching him in the face, figuring it would be the end of her career and unwilling to lose it all for a prick like him. "Go and have some lunch and I'll see you back here before two." Huffing and puffing, he got up and left her alone at the table to sort out her papers before heading to get some lunch for herself. If there was any justice, the trial would be over in less than twenty four hours and she could kiss Timothy Conner goodbye forever.

"You were pushing it a bit, weren't you?" Frank said, wandering over to where she was standing. "Much more and Judge Stein would have be considering holding you in contempt."

"It's called testing the state's case," Evelyn replied. "As well you know."

"My original offer still stands. Attempted robbery two, he serves two years."

"I told you before, he won't take it. He's convinced he'll be found not guilty."

"I trust you've tried to dispel him of that notion."

"Of course, but my instructions are to continue," she shrugged. "Come on, it's an easy win for you. Cross it off your list and let's all look forward to the next one."

"I haven't won yet," he reminded her.

Evelyn laughed, "I'm pretty sure once Mr Conner takes the stand, as he is insisting he wants to do, the jury will have no difficulty in reaching a verdict."

"Fine," he smiled. "Let's see what the afternoon brings."

"Oh yes, let's...please..." she laughed again as he walked away from her. Frank was a decent guy, a competent ADA who had been amazed when she wouldn't accept the deal he offered. But as she had told him, some clients just needed to learn the hard way.

Satisfied that she had left everything in order, and wondering if she would have time to call Ben to see if he had heard what the outcome of the motion hearing was, she turned to make for the door and was stopped in her tracks by the sight of the woman hovering in the public gallery. She had tried so hard to push all thoughts of her from her mind and now, here she was, right in front of her...again.

"Hi," Lily said nervously. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to ambush you..."

"And yet you're here," Evelyn interrupted harshly. "I'm sure you noticed that I'm in the middle of a trial."

"Yes, I was watching you during that cross examination. You're really good, even if you couldn't get Mrs Brown to crack. I would never have the confidence to be a trial lawyer. I guess I'm just more suited to tax law."

"What do you want?"

Lily shifted from foot to foot. "I...uh...heard from my attorney...about Edward's estate."

Evelyn glanced around but fortunately the courtroom had all but emptied and they were alone apart from a lone court officer. "What about it?"

"Well I heard about what Jack is going to inherit, money wise and...well, also a half share in the company." Lily paused. "You really don't want it?"

The woman really had no clue. "I really don't want it."

"I'm...surprised, I guess. I would have thought that..."

"Look," Evelyn sighed, already growing weary of the conversation and hating the fact that Lily's mere presence was darkening her good mood. "I'm really busy at the moment and I have more cross after lunch so if you don't mind..."

"I was hoping that you might let me buy you a cup of coffee," Lily said. "As a kind of, I don't know, peace offering?"

Evelyn stared at the younger woman. For all her talk of not having the confidence to be in court she was certainly proving to have a pretty brass neck. "Peace offering? You were having an affair with my husband...you had his child...and you think a cup of coffee is an appropriate way to apologise for that?"

"I never said it was meant to be an apology," Lily said, her face tightening for a few seconds before relaxing again. "I'm sorry...I can understand if you don't want to. I just thought that it might be good for us to talk a little."

Evelyn paused, every rational bone in her body telling her to decline, to move on...that no good could come of such a conversation. But her interest had been piqued by the other woman and, even though she had pushed all thoughts of Edward's infidelity to the back of her mind and tried to focus on her life with Ben and the children, there was still a part of her that felt a burning desire to know more.

"Fine," she said, snapping her briefcase closed. "There's a diner across the street, but I can only spare you half an hour."

"That's great," Lily smiled. "That should be plenty time."

XXXX

"I've got news," Jack said, opening the door to Ben's office and stepping inside.

Ben looked up. "Better news than when you told me earlier that Judge Bertram had granted the motion?"

"It depends on how you look at it."

"How do you mean?"

"Briscoe just called me. They got the local usage details from Laura's phone faxed down from the police in Connecticut."

"That was fast."

"It's amazing what happens when you exert a little pressure." Jack paused. "There _was_ a call made from your ex-wife's phone to a number in New York the evening you and Evelyn were on your way back to the city. In fact, there was more than one."

Ben sat back in his chair. "How many more?"

"Three in all. One call was made to the switchboard of O'Reilly Limited's New York office at seven fifty-five pm. It lasted less than a minute. Immediately after that there were two calls made to two different cell numbers. The first one lasted three minutes and is registered to Robert O'Reilly but the second one looks like a pre-paid, unregistered cell. That call lasted thirty seconds."

"So someone called the office looking for Robert O'Reilly, found that he wasn't there..."

"Unsurprising for that time on a Saturday night."

"So they called his cell and then called someone else?"

Jack nodded. "Maybe whoever made the call told O'Reilly that Evelyn was going to be back in the city and O'Reilly told that person to call the mystery number to organise the hit."

Ben paused, "Mark O'Reilly."

"Or..." Jack paused, "your ex-wife."

"Laura wouldn't know Robert O'Reilly."

"How do you know?"

"It doesn't make any sense," Ben argued. "Mark's his cousin. It would be far more likely for him to be the one to make the phone call. As much as I don't understand her of late, I can't believe that she would actually..."

"He might have asked her to make the calls," Jack said. "In any event, the fact that the calls were made from her home landline number means that the cops have grounds to pull both her and O'Reilly in for questioning." Ben didn't say anything. "You said yourself that Laura's civil attorney knew Evelyn had been to see Edward the night before he died, something that few people would have known and that you thought she might have gotten that information from Laura who, in turn, might have got it from Mark." He paused. "They could be in this together."

Ben let out a long breath. The fact that his ex-wife, the mother of his children, the woman he had shared a bed with for seven years could have possibly helped plan the attempted murder of his fiancée...it was like something out of a bad movie, not real life.

"I'm going to ask Briscoe and Logan to drive up to Hartford and question both Laura and Mark," Jack continued. "I just wanted to give you the heads up first."

"Thanks."

"I know Evelyn's down in court right now. I've got some papers to file this afternoon. Would you like me to tell her?"

"No," Ben replied quickly. "No...I think it would be better coming from me. I'll tell her tonight."

"Ok," Jack opened the door again. "I'm sorry Ben. For what it's worth, I really hope that Laura isn't involved in this."

"So do I," he said ruefully, "So do I."

XXXX

"I knew he was married," Lily said, stirring her coffee slowly. "But I was flattered by his attentions so I guess I just tried to tune that part out. He would compliment me on my work, on my appearance...things like that. He told me he thought I had a great future at the firm...that I could be a partner one day."

Evelyn said nothing. It was like hearing her own story told back to her. Edward had been nothing if not consistent.

"I didn't know you, not really. You were just...another lawyer at the firm and I was naive enough to think that, well, that you didn't matter." She looked up. "When we were working on projects, he would start dropping things into the conversation, you know, about how little time you spent together, how you'd been so young when you got married, that sort of thing."

"And you believed him."

"Yeah...I suppose I did. Or at least I wanted to. He was handsome and charming and well-connected. The kind of man I think my parents would have liked me to marry one day."

Though she hadn't wanted to ask any questions, hadn't wanted to know any details, faced with the other woman Evelyn found herself suddenly hungry for knowledge. "So when did it start?"

"September of 1986."

"1986?" Evelyn echoed, stunned by the answer, her coffee cup clattering into her saucer. "But that's..."

"A long time ago, I know."

"How old are you?"

"I'm thirty-two," Lily replied. "I was twenty-four at the time. I didn't mean for it to happen but...we were working late in his office and...it just did."

"Don't tell me," Evelyn said, bile rising in her throat at the image forming itself in her mind, "you fucked him on his office couch." Lily's face reddened and she knew she had hit a nerve. "Did he tell you that's where he first fucked me too?"

"No."

"So, what? It just went from there?"

Lily nodded, "Hotel rooms...my apartment...whenever we had the chance to be alone together. It was like a drug. I felt as though...as though I was craving him all the time..."

"Oh please..."

"It ended when I fell pregnant. He wanted me to have a termination and I wouldn't. I wanted him to leave you...to be a family with me and the baby but he wouldn't." Evelyn watched with mounting astonishment as tears hovered in the other woman's eyes. "He said that he loved you. That he wanted to be with you and that he would never leave you. Baby or no baby."

"You would actually have wanted him?"

"Yes," Lily said, "back then I did. And I hated you for it. I hated you for being the person stopping him and I being together. Stopping him from being a father to our baby."

Evelyn crumpled up her napkin and stuffed it into her empty cup. "You would have been welcome to him. Nothing would have made me happier than if he would have left me, but you're deluding yourself if you think he would have ultimately been there for you or any baby."

Lily didn't say anything for a long moment. "I followed the trial. I understand what you say you went through."

"What I _say_ I went through?" Evelyn echoed. "I don't _say_ anything, Ms Arthur. I told the truth in court, every word of it."

"I'm sure you believe that..."

"Oh I do, because it happened." Evelyn got to her feet. "Think yourself lucky that he never pinned you down and forced himself inside you. Think yourself lucky that he never smacked you around. Think yourself lucky that you have, what you consider to be, decent memories of your time with him."

"You do too though, right?" Lily said earnestly. "Before you say it happened? All those times you had amazing sex with him? It was like that for me...for us...amazing..."

"Jesus Christ..."

"I loved him! I loved him in a way I know you never did."

"Well more fool you!" Evelyn grabbed her coat. "Thank you for the coffee but you'll forgive me if I don't offer to return the favour sometime."

"My son's father is not a rapist!" Lily said, jumping to her feet. "He isn't! He wasn't! Eddie would never have..."

Evelyn froze the moment she heard the other woman use the nickname. To her knowledge, she was the only person who had ever called her husband Eddie. His parents had always referred to him as Edward, as had his friends and colleagues. It had been the name she and she alone had used for him...a term of affection in the beginning, force of habit in the end. As much as she hated him now, to think that he had let someone else call him by it, especially the little tramp in front of her...

"Fuck you," she said, her tone quiet and vicious, her thoughts uncharitable. "Fuck you and fuck your son. I hope you both enjoy the legacy my husband left you." Before the other woman could reply, she stormed away from the table, pushed open the door and stepped outside, taking in a deep lungful of air as she hurried back across the street to the courthouse and into the restroom, where she only just made it into a stall in time before emptying the contents of her stomach into the bowl.

She sat on the cold floor, breathing heavily, trying hard to bring herself back under control, to remind herself that none of what Lily had told her mattered. Edward was dead and more than that, she had hated him at the end... _despised_ him...so why did knowing he had had someone else, not to mention a child, make her feel so utterly wretched?

"You're late," Timothy said when he sat down beside her again at the defence table. "You said before two o'clock."

"That was for your benefit Mr Conner," Evelyn replied. "I didn't want you to be late."

"I'm never late," he insisted.

"Good for you." She took a long drink of water, trying once again to rid her mouth of the acrid taste of vomit as Judge Stein walked back onto the bench and brought the court back to order. "You won't miss the bus for Rikers then."


	30. Chapter 30

**Happy Sunday :)**

"I can't shake it."

"Can't shake what?"

"How I feel about it." Evelyn looked down at her hands, folded together in her lap. "I know I'm being unreasonable but...I just...can't shake it."

"How _do_ you feel about it?"

Evelyn paused, trying to find the right words. "I feel...betrayed." She looked up and met Elizabeth's gaze. "I know that sounds ridiculous."

"No, it doesn't. It sounds understandable."

"For years I wanted to end the marriage," she continued. "I wanted to find the impetus to leave and all the time he was..." she trailed off, her throat tightening. "All the time he was sleeping with someone else who was clearly infatuated with him and wanted him to be with her and I would...I would have been happy if he had turned around and told me that he was leaving me because it would have been a way out for me but..." she shook her head. "Despite all that...I still feel as though Eddie betrayed me."

"He _did_ betray you," Elizabeth said. "He was having an affair."

"But I didn't want him! I didn't want to be his wife, so why do I feel so angry with him for having someone else?" It was the thought that had plagued her, ever since she had found out about Lily, more so since their conversation in the coffee shop the previous week. Every time she thought about them together, every time she closed her eyes and imagined it...she felt anger...more fierce than she had ever felt before, stronger even than what she felt when she thought about him abusing her.

"Maybe it's because, despite everything, you kept you vows," Elizabeth offered. "You didn't cheat on him, though you would have had more reason to than most. Your marriage was tortuous and dysfunctional but...it was _yours._ "

Evelyn nodded slowly. "There were times when I used to think about someone coming along and...and sweeping me off my feet and taking me away from it all, and I'm not saying that I never came across attractive men and thought about it but...I would never have initiated anything. I would never have wilfully gone out looking for someone else..." tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. "Even if I had gone to work at the DA's office when Eddie and I were still together, even if I had met Ben..."

She closed her eyes at the very thought of him. From their weekend of passion at the hotel to talking with Lily, she knew that she had changed virtually overnight. In the last week she had reverted to kissing him chastely at night and then turning over and pulling the duvet up around herself, giving him the signal that in no uncertain terms was she inviting intimacy. She knew that he was confused, particularly as she had chosen not to tell him about her meeting with Lily, but he was mid-trial at the moment, and with the kids around there had been little opportunity to discuss it.

"She told you that Edward said he wouldn't leave you because he loved you," Elizabeth broke back into her thoughts. "How does that make you feel?"

Evelyn opened her eyes again, the tears pooling in her eyes, her voice cracking, "I don't...I don't understand that. He said that he loved me when he was giving evidence at trial...he told Lily that he loved me...he told _me_ that he loved me that night in his office but...but I don't understand how he could treat me the way he did and...and love me. How could he? That's not what love is, is it?" Elizabeth didn't reply. "I know it isn't. I _know_ Ben loves me and he would never..." she broke off again, swallowing hard. "I feel as though I spend my entire life just going _over and over_ this in my head and I never reach any conclusion about it." She dashed her hand across her eyes. "And I don't know why I'm even giving it any headspace but I just can't seem to stop..."

"It's perfectly natural," Elizabeth said, leaning forward in her chair. "You're not wrong to have these feelings. You're not wrong to be dwelling on it..."

"But I should be moving forwards," Evelyn insisted. "I should be thinking about the future with Ben and the kids. We're supposed to be thinking about getting married in the next few months and I should be happy...but I'm not."

"You need to give yourself time to get over everything, Evelyn. You need to allow yourself the time to process everything that has happened to you, including this revelation about Edward. You can't force yourself to move past it if you're not ready." Elizabeth paused. "Have you talked to Ben about how you feel?" Evelyn shook her head. "Why not?"

"Because...because I know he doesn't want to hear about it."

"How do you know that?"

"Because why would he? Why would he want to listen to me talking about how betrayed I feel? Why would anyone want to hear that after everything Eddie did to me? He wouldn't understand, I know he wouldn't."

Elizabeth paused before speaking again. "In the past, when you've kept things from Ben and then he's found out...how has he reacted?"

Evelyn thought back over all the occasions when she had been less than forthcoming. Edward assaulting her in the precinct...Edward leaving her a message...her visiting him at his office... "He's said that I should have told him."

"These feelings you're experiencing are, as I said, completely normal," Elizabeth said, "and whilst it is entirely appropriate for you to discuss them here with me, it's also important that you have support outside of therapy too. Someone that you can unburden yourself to. If your plan is to make a life with Ben then he is the person that you should be confiding in." She paused. "He's a good man and he loves you. I know that he would want to support you through this."

Evelyn let out a long breath and nodded. "You're right...I know you're right. It's just...I guess I don't know how to start the conversation."

"Pick a time when there are no distractions, maybe a weekend when the kids are with their mother, sit him down and explain to him how you feel," Elizabeth encouraged. "I guarantee that having that real-world support will eventually make you feel a whole lot better."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," Evelyn said ruefully.

Elizabeth smiled gently, "I am."

XXXX

"So where are we with this?" Adam asked, snapping shut a file and sitting down behind his desk.

"Nowhere," Jack replied. "At a dead end."

"Laura told the detectives that she hadn't made any calls from her home the night Evelyn was shot," Ben said. "She said that she was with Peter and Pamela upstairs during the time that the calls were logged."

"What about O'Reilly?"

"He refused to answer the questions," Jack said. "So he didn't confirm or deny it, but my money's on it being him that made the calls. It makes more sense than Laura having done it. He's the one with the relationship with Robert O'Reilly."

"So the theory is what?" Adam asked.

"Mark calls Robert to tell him Evelyn and I are on our way back to the city," Ben said. "He's not at the office so Mark calls him on his cell. Robert tells Mark to phone an unknown third party to instruct him to carry out the shooting."

"Only we have no idea who the third party is," Jack replied. "The call was made to a pre-paid cell phone, no way to trace the owner, but we can assume that it's someone connected to the Lucchese family."

"With the motive being what? A roundabout attempt to put the frighteners onto Edward Burns? Seems a little pointless given that he and Evelyn were separated and that she was about to give evidence against him."

"In his evidence, Edward claimed that he still loved Evelyn. Evelyn herself said that he told her that when she went to see him the night at his office before he was killed," Ben said. "Maybe whoever he was dealing with in the family had heard him say it. Maybe they believed it really _was_ a genuine way to get to him."

"Maybe he really did still love her," Adam opined.

Ben made a face, "The man didn't know the meaning of the word."

"The family knew that Evelyn was going to give evidence against Edward," Jack said. "What they _didn't_ know was how much he had told her about his involvement with them. Maybe they were worried Evelyn was going to say something during the trial so...they shoot her to scare Edward into getting her to keep quiet."

"Unaware that she wasn't going to say anything anyway," Ben added.

"Why then wouldn't they just have killed her?"

"Because if they believed that Edward really _did_ still love her, then killing her might have simply tipped him over the edge and he might have started talking himself. They couldn't risk that."

"After Edward was convicted, somehow the family heard that he was willing to make a deal for a lighter sentence, which they would have rightly assumed involving him passing information about their operations, so they finished the job and silenced him," Jack said.

Adam sighed, "And the police can't take it any further than that?"

"Like I said, we can't trace the owner of the cell phone. Short of pulling in every known associate of the Lucchese family..."

"What about the gun?"

"Ballistics matched the bullet found in Edward with the one from Evelyn's shooting. They came from the same gun, a Tenfolio Titan, but without a weapon to match it to..."

"Then you're right. It is a dead end." Adam looked over at Ben. "I'm sorry."

"It was worth a shot," he sighed heavily. "We know there's a connection there...maybe something might come up in the future..." Though he was saying the words, he knew that there was little chance of ever finding out exactly who was responsible and his relationship with Laura had been damaged even more than it already had been as a result.

"What about your ex-wife?" Adam asked, as though reading his mind.

"She denied any knowledge or involvement and I'm inclined to believe her," Ben replied. "She met O'Reilly at one of Peter's baseball games, long before Evelyn and I ever met."

"So it's a coincidence?"

"Seems like it."

Adam mused on this for a moment. "Jack, could you give us a minute?"

"Sure," the other man said, getting to his feet and leaving the office quietly.

"How's the trial going?" Adam asked when he and Ben were alone.

"Fine," Ben replied, slightly surprised at the abrupt change in direction of the conversation. "Gordon Schell's making me earn my paycheck but that's no bad thing."

Adam gestured to a pile of papers on his desk. "Applications."

"For what?"

"A vacant position of assistant district attorney."

"Ok..."

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record, you need an assistant."

Ben sighed heavily, "After the last one, I think I work better on my own."

"Mr Clifton might have been a mistake..."

" _Might_ have been?"

"That's why this time, you're going to be involved in the interviewing process. You can meet the candidates for yourself and we can make the decision together."

"Adam, I don't have time..."

"Make time," Adam insisted. "This is important, Ben. Now I realise that you have a lot going on at the moment, but if the investigation into Evelyn's shooting is at a standstill then that's one less thing to worry about. You're overstretched and you know it." He lifted the pile of papers. "Have a look through these when you can. I've set down the interviews for next month."

"Fine," Ben said, taking them from him and heading for the door. "Once I've finished this trial, ok?"

"Alright," Adam paused as he made to open the door. "You really think your ex-wife's relationship with O'Reilly is a coincidence?"

Ben paused, his hand on the doorknob. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "I really don't know."

XXXX

"I don't blame you for being angry. I'd be fucking furious if Nick did anything like that to me."

"It's a little bit different, Sarah."

"I know that but still...God, I shouldn't be making this about me. This must be so hard for you."

Evelyn smiled and pulled her legs up under her onto the couch. It was Sunday evening and due to a problem with the signalling on the track between Grand Central and Hartford, Ben had been forced to drive up to collect Peter and Pamela from their weekend with Laura. He had asked if she wanted to go along for the ride but she had declined. Sundays were the best days to try and get hold of her cousin and, if she was being honest, she really didn't want to see Laura, not after everything that had happened.

"It's not exactly a picnic," she admitted.

"Have you seen the kid? Does he look like Edward?" Sarah asked.

"No...I haven't."

"Don't you want to?"

"No..." she lied, "not really." The truth was, part of her was almost desperate to see little Jack Burns, desperate to see if he resembled his father in any way. When she tried to picture him, she always attempted to make him blond and slight, like Lily, but she had a horrible feeling that he would be tall and dark like Edward. In any event, a meeting was very unlikely to ever take place, so she knew that she was only torturing herself by thinking about it.

"What does Ben say about all this?" Evelyn paused. "You have told him, haven't you?"

"He knows about Lily and Jack obviously..."

"But you haven't told him about what she said?"

"No."

"Evelyn..." Sarah sighed. "Why not?"

She paused again, thinking back to her session with Elizabeth a few days earlier and how the other woman had tried to persuade her that Ben would understand her feelings. She had left the office resolved to share her thoughts with him. But when she had got home, he had told her that the investigation into her shooting had come to nothing, that the police were no further forward in identifying who was responsible, and that alone had put paid to anything else she might have had to say.

"You don't think he'll understand, do you?"

"What are you, a mind reader?"

"Do you?"

"I don't know. I don't know what he would think," she admitted. "I _am_ going to tell him. I'm pretty sure he knows that something's up anyway. I've been holding back on intimacy and..."

"That's exactly what you _shouldn't_ be doing!" Sarah exclaimed. "My God, Evelyn! Edward was cheating on you. He was _cheating_ on you!"

"I'm aware of that..."

"You should be fucking Ben's brains out, not acting like a nun!"

Her cousin's crudeness made her laugh, despite everything. "Really? Is that the solution?"

"Of course it is! Edward had his fun behind your back. Ok, he's not here for you to stick it to him in person but, come on! You should be swinging from the fucking chandeliers, having the best sex of your life and sticking two fingers up at his grave! If you're not, then there's something not right."

"I _know_ there's something not right, that's why I'm..."

"No, I mean there's something not right between you and Ben."

Evelyn paused. "There's nothing wrong between me and Ben."

"Really? Then when he gets back from Hartford tonight you need to tell him about your little chat with Ms Arthur and then you need to have him give you an amazing orgasm." Sarah paused. "You know...it's not too late."

"Not too late for what?"

"It's not too late to make a change. My previous offer still stands."

She played dumb, even though she knew exactly what Sarah was alluding to. "What offer?"

"You could still come and work for me."

Evelyn laughed, "Come on, I told you before that was a non-starter."

"So you did."

"I'm not coming to live in London! I have a life here! I have a job, Ben, the kids..."

"Fine," Sarah replied, her tone serious. "That's what you told me before and I respected that. But nothing seems to have changed. In fact, you seem even more unhappy than you did then."

"I'm fine," Evelyn said, letting out a long breath. "I just needed someone to talk to, that's all."

"You should be talking to Ben."

"I take your point, thank you." She glanced at the clock. "I should probably get going."

"It wouldn't hurt to find out a bit more about it, would it?" Sarah pressed. "Just so you know what all your options are?"

"I'll talk to you later, Sarah. Thanks for listening."

"I'm serious Evelyn."

"I know," Evelyn said. "So am I." She clicked the phone off before her cousin could say anymore and then tossed the receiver onto the couch, basking in the sudden silence. She would have been lying to herself if she said that London had never crossed her mind over the last few months, but before she had spoken with Lily, she had put it firmly from her mind. Her future was here, in New York with Ben, Peter and Pamela. There was no other option.

 _She's right though..._ her inner voice whispered...i _t wouldn't hurt just to find out..._

She glanced at the clock again, working out that Ben would be in Hartford and calculating when he would get back. The day after their visit to the hotel, she had purchased some underwear, just on a whim, but hadn't had the opportunity yet to wear it. It was black and silky and had made her feel good when she had tried it on.

So perhaps she should take at least some of her cousin's advice.

XXXX

The atmosphere in the house was tense. Ben hadn't wanted to go inside, preferring simply to wait in the car until the kids were ready to come out, but upon seeing him outside, Laura had marched out and banged on his window, asking him in a terse voice to come inside so that they could talk.

"I'm not doing this in front of Peter and Pamela," he had said, stepping out of the car.

"They're upstairs finishing getting ready," she had replied. "Besides, it won't take long."

So he had followed her into the house, through the living room and into the kitchen, where she had rounded on him, her eyes flashing. "You couldn't even have given me a heads up?"

"About what?"

"About the fact that I was going to be dragged in for questioning by the police!"

"It wasn't up to me to give you any heads up," he replied.

"So our marriage, our life together, our children...it all counts for nothing?"

"Don't fall back on our marriage, Laura, it's been over a long time."

She paused, glaring at him. "Do you honestly think...do you honestly _believe_ that I could have had anything to do with what happened to you and Evelyn that night? Jesus Ben..."

"Your boyfriend has connections to organised crime..."

"Ex-boyfriend!"

"Not at the time," Ben said. "Now there were calls made from this house, suspicious calls, the night Evelyn was shot. The police were well within their rights to question both you _and_ Mark given that you both lived here at the time the calls were made!"

"I didn't make any calls!"

"No?"

"No!"

"After Evelyn was shot you told me that you hated me."

"I was angry about the kids..."

"And that you believed that I wouldn't have been trying to take the kids away from you if Evelyn was dead."

"Oh for God's sake, I was just projecting!"

"Were you?"

"Yes!" Laura looked at him earnestly. "Ben...I swear on Peter and Pamela's lives that I had _nothing_ to do with what happened to Evelyn. I didn't know about the people Mark was involved with. I had _no_ idea that there was any connection between him and the shooter...I swear!"

Ben wanted to believe her...did believe her. Despite everything and what uncharitable thoughts he may have harboured towards her over the years, she had never had form for lying. He sighed heavily and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Was there ever anything Mark said or did...anything he left lying around that might have suggested...?"

"Suggested what? That he was in league with assassins? No," Laura shook her head. "He was a normal guy." Ben raised his eyebrows. "Well, as normal as you can be I suppose. He had a temper, but I knew that...I accepted it. But the only times that he got really angry was when he thought I had been looking at his phone."

"His phone?"

"Well, his second phone. He had two, a personal one and one he used for work. He used to go to the bottom of the garden and have long conversations on it but he'd never tell me what he'd been talking about. He left it on the counter a few times and if he ever thought I'd looked at it then he would get angry. That's what we fought about."

"Did you tell this to the police?"

"No, funnily enough I didn't," she replied acerbically. "They were too busy trying to accuse me of ordering a hit from my own landline!"

The thundering of feet from upstairs indicated that Peter and Pamela were on their way down. "Thanks," Ben said.

"Do you think the police will ever get who did it?" Laura asked.

"Do you care?" he shot back.

"Yes..." she nodded, "actually, I do."

He paused, taking in the sincerity of her expression. "I hope so," he replied, "for Evelyn's sake."

"You hope what for Evelyn's sake?" Peter asked, appearing in the doorway.

"Nothing," he replied, reaching out and ruffling his son's hair. "Come on, let's get going."

"Bye Mom," the kids chorused as they headed out towards the car.

"Ben..." he turned back to look at her. "In a few months...maybe when things have calmed down..."

"What?"

She swallowed hard, "I want my kids back."

He sighed and turned to watch as Peter and Pamela piled into the car, laughing and joking with each other, jostling and pushing, arguing over who was going to sit in the front seat. "I think that would be up to them," he replied, "don't you?"

"I guess so," Laura replied. "For what's it worth..." he turned back to face her again. "You're a good father, Ben."

He knew he shouldn't have cared what she thought, especially after what had happened. Who was she to pass any judgement on the quality of anyone's parenting? But he couldn't help but remember that night at the hospital, when she had told him that he wasn't much of a father, and how her words had made him feel. Somehow, hearing her retract them now, made him feel better.

"Thank you," he said. "I appreciate that. And...if you think about anything else to do with Mark..."

"I'll let you know," she nodded.

He turned again and made his way down the driveway to the car, stopping only when she called to him again.

"I hope you and Evelyn are happy," Laura said. "I mean that."

"Thanks," he said again, opening the car door. "We are."


	31. Chapter 31

Enjoy :)

Ben could feel the tension in her body, despite the fact that she had been the one to initiate the intimacy. Though tired when he had gotten home from Hartford, Evelyn had had a look in her eye the entire time that the kids were roaming about getting ready for bed and once they were alone together, she had pulled him into the bedroom and slipped off her sweatpants and top to reveal a tiny black thong and tight black bra that had had, what he assumed was, the desired effect on him.

It was good, as it always was, made more so by the fact that it had been over a week since she had shown any interest in repeating their night at the hotel. His own schedule of late had simply allowed him to accept that night after night she hadn't been in the mood, but he would have been lying to himself if he hadn't admitted that on more than one occasion, after she had turned her back on him, he hadn't felt a burning need for her and had lain in the dark next to her, thinking all sorts of things in his head before a quick trip to the bathroom had satiated him. As he had stood over the bowl, watching the remnants of himself disappear, he had felt slightly disgusted by the whole thing but pressuring her for intimacy, even bringing it up, seemed equally distasteful.

So he couldn't deny that as she lay curled against him afterwards, he felt a sense of both relief and happiness, but it was tempered with a sneaking suspicion that something was occupying her mind. He wondered about asking her if she was all right in the hope that it might spur her to open up, but something held him back and he wasn't sure what it was.

In the end, she solved the problem for him.

"Lily Arthur approached me at court."

It certainly hadn't been what he'd been expecting to hear and he propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her face, half shaded in the lamplight. "What? When?"

"Last week during my trial. She said she wanted to talk."

"And what did you say?"

"I didn't really want to," she made a face, "but I suppose I was curious as to what she had to say."

"What did she have to say?" he probed.

Evelyn sighed heavily. "She talked about her affair with Eddie...about how it started...how it ended...about how much she loved him."

"So she's crazy then," he said supportively.

"She told me that Eddie told her he wouldn't leave me for her because he loved me."

Ben said nothing. Every time he heard that old chestnut, it made him angry and he knew if he allowed himself free reign he might say something he regretted. So he chose to say nothing and simply wait for her to continue.

"She said...she said that he wasn't a rapist...that he couldn't be a rapist..." she swallowed hard. "She doesn't believe that I told the truth about him in court."

"Why do you care what she thinks?"

"I don't, I..."

"It's probably only natural that she wants to convince herself that it isn't true," Ben said. "She probably doesn't want to look in her son's eyes every day and think about what kind of man his father was." He paused as Evelyn met his gaze. "Don't you think you might have felt that way?"

"How do you mean?" she frowned.

"Well...if you had had a baby with Edward...how would you have felt knowing that he or she had been created through an act that you really didn't want to happen?" Evelyn didn't reply, her gaze taking on a faraway look, as though she had never considered the possibility before. "Besides," he barrelled on. "She has nothing to do with you...the child has nothing to do with you...and if she approaches you again you should call security."

"I doubt she will. We didn't exactly part on friendly terms."

"But it's still bothering you." She met his gaze again and he could almost see the conflict playing out on her face. He dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. "You need to let it go."

"I can't..." she replied, her voice cracking slightly, her eyes filling with tears. "I can't stop thinking about it, Ben. I can't stop going over and over it in my head...how he could do that to me...how he could betray me like that without so much as a second thought..."

He felt himself torn between wanting to comfort her and wanting to shake her and not knowing which one was more appropriate. "Evelyn..."

"I was faithful to him, despite everything...I never once contemplated doing anything with anyone else and yet he..."

"You need to stop thinking about it," he said, sliding his arm under her body and pulling her close to him. "It won't do you any good to dwell on it."

"But..."

"Evelyn...he's dead. He's dead and gone and you don't ever have to see him or think about him ever again. Sweetheart..." he kissed her again. "I hate seeing you upset. Please...let's think about all the good things that are going to be happening for us. We have this new apartment, the kids are here, we're going to be getting married..." he fought for all the positives. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making you happy...giving you the marriage that you deserve...the one you should have had all along, please..." he kissed her again, "please don't cry..." She buried her face in his neck and he could feel the dampness from her tears against his skin. "Please don't think about the past. Think about the future, _our_ future...together..." He squeezed her tightly, as if by doing so he could somehow rid her of her feelings for Edward, have them expelled into the air where he could bat them away, never to return.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, her voice muffled against him. "I know it's not what you want to hear." He wanted to deny it, but found that he couldn't. "I know that you're right..." she pulled back and looked at him, her face streaked with tears.

"Have you talked to Liz about this in your sessions?" he asked, gently wiping her cheeks with his fingers. She nodded. "And what did she say?"

Evelyn paused for a long moment. "She said the same as you. That I needed to let it go."

"Well then..." he smiled encouragingly at her, "and that's coming from an expert." He smoothed her hair back from her face and kissed her again. "I love you more than I've ever loved any woman. Let's look forward not back."

She nodded in agreement and he pulled her back into his arms and down beside him where she wrapped one arm around his waist and laid her head on his chest, her breathing slowly growing even as sleep claimed her. He didn't know how long he lay there looking at the ceiling before he too succumbed to the exhaustions of the day, but as he did so he couldn't help but think that no matter what it took, he was going to rid Edward Burns from Evelyn's mind forever.

 **Two weeks later**

"He wants to make a complaint."

Evelyn rolled her eyes, "Let him. He hasn't even been sentenced yet."

"He will be, tomorrow, and he's already said that he doesn't want you handling the hearing."

"Good! I wasn't particularly looking forward to it anyway. What the hell is anyone supposed to say in mitigation for him?"

"If he goes to jail, he'll likely appeal."

"As is his right, not that he has any grounds."

Shambala closed the office door."This is serious, Evelyn. He says that you didn't ask the witnesses the right questions in cross-examination, nor did you object when he was being, in his words, 'inappropriately questioned by the DA.'"

"So suddenly he has a law degree? I asked the witnesses the questions that _I_ deemed appropriate in the circumstances and as for him being questioned by the DA, Frank Lake was surprisingly fair to him."

"If he files an appeal based on defective representation..."

"Oh for heaven's sake Shambala!" Evelyn said, tossing her hands in the air. "How many times have you had a client complain when things haven't gone their way? It's the nature of things! It's the kind of people that we're dealing with day after day. It's not my fault that the jury didn't like Mr Conner and if he can't see that then that's his problem. If he doesn't like the representation he had then maybe he should have chosen somebody else. After all, you get what you pay for, right?"

Shambala stared at her, "You did _not_ just say that."

"Oh please..."

"This is the _public defenders_ _office_ Evelyn! We don't pick and choose our clients! Everyone is entitled to fair representation under the law and you know that! This is not about working at some fancy law firm in Brooklyn where you can decide who you represent and who you don't and bill them at inflated rates for your time!"

"That is not something I ever did!" Evelyn got to her feet, angered by the insinuation. "All I meant was..."

"I know what you meant! If you don't think you can work here effectively, within our ethos, then maybe you should consider a career change!"

"So...what? You're firing me?"

Shambala let out a long breath before replying. "Of course I'm not firing you, I'm not your boss. But people like Timothy Conner are exactly the sort of people who love to make complaints and follow them through! Now I think I managed to persuade him to at least hold tight until his sentencing tomorrow. Maybe if Judge Stein goes easy on him he might think twice, otherwise you are going to have to explain yourself and your actions to Derek and, possibly, the Court of Appeals." She paused. "What is going on with you right now anyway?"

Evelyn looked at her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean...you're all over the place. You were late for arraignments yesterday, missed an appointment at Rikers, you're way behind with your motions..." Shambala's expression turned sympathetic. "Is it something to do with Edward?"

"No," she replied quickly, "of course not. He's dead, remember?"

"Something to do with his girlfriend and his child then?"

"It's nothing," she said hurriedly. "Look, I'm sorry if I'm a bit behind. I guess I still haven't quite figured out how to deal with how fast paced everything is here. I know that's not an excuse...I was planning on working pretty late tonight anyway to try and catch up on things."

"Evelyn...if you're not coping..."

"I am coping," she snapped, anxious suddenly for Shambala to leave her alone. "I'm coping fine if you could just...let me get on with things...I'll be fine." She nodded as the other woman hovered. "Honestly Shambala...I'm fine."

"Ok...well if you need me to help you with anything just shout. I'm pretty swamped but I'd rather help you then see you overwhelmed." Evelyn bit back another acerbic response and merely nodded. "I'll let you know how it goes at sentencing tomorrow."

"Great, thanks..."

As the door closed behind Shambala, Evelyn let out a long breath and put her head in her hands. So much of what Shambala had said was true, well except the part about her not representing Timothy Conner properly. Yes, she had been preoccupied for the remainder of the trial after her encounter with Lily, but it certainly hadn't affected her professionalism...had it?

"Who are you kidding," she muttered, tossing her pen onto the desk and roughly pushing the papers she had been looking at to one side.

She was faking it.

She was faking it in every aspect of her life. At work, she faked interest in the clients and the cases she was assigned. At home, she faked interest in what Peter and Pamela told her about school, baseball and art, faked interest in what Ben told her about his day and faked interest and enjoyment in the sex that she let him have with her even though her mind was firmly elsewhere. On the phone with her mother, she faked interest in hearing about what she had done that day and the latest gossip from her book and bridge club. In her sessions with Elizabeth, she faked having made peace with Eddie and how he had hurt and betrayed her and faked having moved on.

In reality she was stuck in a never end perpetual cycle of despair and unhappiness. When she tried to think about her future with Ben and the kids, what he wanted her to think about, she couldn't help but compare it to her life with Eddie. And though what she had now was far better, she would then find herself dwelling back on everything that had happened to her, physically and emotionally. She would think about him raping her, hitting her...cheating on her...and she would think about him professing love for her and her mind would become so overwhelmed with feelings that she couldn't explain that she would end up in tears for seemingly no reason. Every time she crossed the street she found herself searching the crowds, wondering if one day she would come across Lily and little Jack and see her husband's face staring out at her.

She felt suffocated. Suffocated by the city, suffocated by her work, suffocated by Ben, who she knew only wanted to make to her happy but who had started, since her revelation about meeting Lily, to talk about getting married sooner than the six months they had previously agreed on. He kept bringing up the fact that if she really wanted to do it at City Hall then they could do it any time they wanted and he would look at her earnestly, clearly wanting her to say, 'ok then, let's do it next week.' But she found that she couldn't and she would change the subject and hope that he didn't notice her disinterest and reticence.

One thing...one thing played at the back of her mind and it was something that she didn't want to give much thought to, much less act upon. When she considered it...the merits and wisdom of it...it always seemed to present itself as the solution. It almost seemed like the obvious answer...a way out of the darkness that seemed to be constantly plaguing her...a way of starting again. And yet, if she did it...if she took the step, she would be hurting so many people along the way.

A knock at her office door broke her train of thought and, pulling her files back together and clearing her throat, she bade whoever was there to come in.

"Just some phone messages for you," Kelly, the receptionist said, placing the bits of paper down on her desk. "I didn't want to disturb you when you were talking to Ms Green."

"That's fine, thanks," she replied, picking them up and quickly glancing at them.

"Is there anything you need just now?"

"No, thanks," she replied. Then it hit her, as clearly as anything. Sarah had been right. Where was the harm? "Actually..." Kelly paused at the door and turned back to look at her. "There is one favour that you could do for me."

"Yeah?"

"Could you get me the number for the British embassy?"

"Of course," Kelly smiled. "No problem. Do you want me to call and just patch you through?"

"Uh...no," Evelyn replied. "No, the number will be fine."

"No problem."

As the door closed again, Evelyn sat back in her chair and let out another long breath, knowing that she was potentially treading a destructive path and yet not having a clue what else to do.

XXXX

"I was talking to your grandmother today," Ben said, as he and the kids ate dinner. Evelyn had called to say that she was going to have to work late and that they should eat without her, so he had thrown something together for them which had been met with moderate grudging acceptance.

"Grandma Williams?" Pamela asked.

"No, your Grandma Stone," he replied. "She was asking for you both. Told me she couldn't remember the last time she saw you."

"I can't remember the last time _we_ saw _her_ ," Peter mused, winding spaghetti around his fork.

"I know...and that's my fault," Ben said, feeling the familiar pang of regret. "I haven't seen her in nearly a year myself. Anyway, she called me at work and we got talking and she wants to come for a visit."

"Really?" Peter asked. "Does she know that we live with you now?"

"Of course she does and she wants to see you...wants to see all of us. She was thinking about flying over during your Easter break for a few days." He paused. "I was talking to your aunt Carole in Wyoming too...your cousins are all away at university now and I think she's feeling a bit lonely."

"She wants to come for a visit too?" Pamela asked. Ben nodded. "Cool."

"The thing is..." he paused, wondering for the hundredth time if what he was going to suggest was a good idea in any case and even more so whether he should share it with his two teenagers. "I was thinking that their visit should be for something special."

"How do you mean?" Peter frowned.

"Well...you know that Evelyn and I are going to get married, right?" They nodded. "And you're both ok with that, aren't you?"

"Yes," Pamela said, in a tone that didn't invite argument.

"I was thinking that it might be nice to do it when your Grandmother and Aunt Carole are here. That way they can meet Evelyn and see both of you and we can spend some time together as a family. What do you think?"

"Sounds ok," Peter said. "What does Evelyn think?"

"Well that's where I would need your help." He smiled at their expectant faces. "I was thinking that we could keep the fact that we'd be getting married a secret from Evelyn and then it would be a big surprise for her."

"But wouldn't she need to know?" Peter asked.

"What about her dress?" Pamela queried.

"Well I don't mean we should keep it a secret right up until the actual day," Ben explained. "But I figured that you guys could help me organise most of it and then we could surprise her with the date and all the arrangements on her birthday before your Grandmother and Aunt Carole arrive. What do you think?"

"I like it!" Pamela declared, dropping her cutlery into her dish with a flourish.

"I don't know..." Peter said sagely.

"You don't know what?" Ben asked.

"Can I bring a date?"

The question threw him slightly but he found himself nodding in some sort of bemused acceptance. "I don't see why not...but I guess we could talk about that nearer the time."

Peter nodded, "Then I'm in."

"Great," Ben clapped his hands together. "But remember it's going to be a surprise so no cryptic conversations or sideways glances, got it?"

"Got it," they chorused.

"Good..." he sat back in his chair as the children buzzed about, taking their dishes to the sink, clearing the table then arguing about homework before disappearing into their rooms and closing the doors. In the silence that followed, he contemplated his idea, dreamed up whilst listening to an incredibly long and boring closing argument by Janice Rydell in his current trial. He would obviously have to invite Susan and Patricia and though he knew distance would most likely preclude it, Sarah and her family. Then there was Shambala and maybe Elizabeth and Mike, regardless of how awkward it might be. After all, were therapists even allowed to go to their patient's weddings? Then there was Paul...

As he cleared up the kitchen, he started to feel better and better about the idea as a whole. Evelyn had been slightly hesitant of late when he had talked about their getting married, but he was convinced that was down to the potential stress of organising it all, especially when she was so busy with work. This way, he was taking all of that out of her hands. All she would need to do would be show up and say 'I do.'

What could be simpler?


	32. Chapter 32

**Just because I didn't see the point in making you wait :)**

 **Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! Please bear in mind that I am completely fabricating the visa application process to suit my own purposes :D**

There was a prolonged silence at the other end of the phone.

"Well it's certainly a novel idea," Sarah conceded. "A groom organising a wedding without any recourse to the bride."

Ben bit back an automatically acerbic response and counted to five before replying. "I'm not doing it out of spite," he said, keeping his tone as light as possible.

"Oh no, no I realise that. It's just...well it's not something I've really heard of before. I think you're quite brave to be considering it, actually."

"I'm doing more than just considering it," he replied. Since coming up with the idea a few days earlier, he had subsequently agreed in his own mind that they would have the ceremony in the afternoon at City Hall and then go on to the hotel where they had spent his birthday for a small wedding breakfast for family and friends. Although he knew that Evelyn had balked at the idea of having a full wedding there, he couldn't help but think that it was a fair compromise to suit both of their wants. As he could neither obtain the marriage licence without her, nor book City Hall, those two important factors would require to wait until she knew about what was going to happen, but he had booked the hotel in order to secure the date.

"When are you planning on having this wedding then?" Sarah asked.

"April 14th," he replied.

"Four days after Evelyn's birthday? You're not giving her a lot of time to get used to the idea."

"Well, hopefully she'll be happy and all she'll need to do is decide what to wear," he replied philosophically.

"Have you told Susan?"

"Of course."

"And what did she say?"

"She was surprised," he said, recalling the phone conversation he had had with Evelyn's mother earlier that morning, "but she appeared excited about it."

"That sounds like Susan," Sarah said drily. "Any excuse for a day out. Evelyn told me she was practically desperate to be at Edward's funeral."

"I know that the distance is a factor for you," Ben said, hurrying to move the subject away from Edward, "but I know that Evelyn would want you to be there, as do I. Obviously if you can't make it, we'll both understand and I wanted to at least extend the invitation."

Sarah paused again. "It's a very sweet idea, Ben. I'll need to check my calendar and the boys school holidays, not to mention Nick's annual leave...can I come back to you as soon as I know?" "Of course," he replied, catching sight of Adam hovering outside his office door. "Just let me know when you've made a decision so I can add you to the numbers, or not as the case may be."

"Fine," Sarah said, "thanks for calling."

"No problem." He hung up the phone and let out a long breath. She hadn't reacted exactly as he'd hoped, but then she hadn't completely shut down the idea either. It _was_ a lot to ask her and the family to travel from London again, especially as they had just been over at Thanksgiving and if he was a betting person, he would have placed money that they wouldn't come.

"How's it going?" Adam asked, opening the office door and stepping inside.

"Fine," he replied, refocusing his mind on work. "I've got a deposition at four in the Dwyer homicide and preparation to do for the Grand Jury regarding Joshua Berger...but I'm surviving."

Adam shook his head, "You think you'll get an indictment on Berger?"

"No, and I don't think I should. The kid ran out into the road, Berger wasn't speeding..." Ben shrugged, "but as you said, at least we'll have crossed all the t's and dotted all the i's and people like the Reverend Ott can't complain we're not taking the death of a black teenager seriously."

"There but for the grace of God..." Adam mused. "Have you looked at those yet?"

Ben followed his gaze to the stack of application forms and resumes that were still sitting on his desk. "Not yet. I was going to get to them later today."

"Uh-huh," Adam replied disbelievingly. "You'll be remembering that the interviews are next week?"

"When next week?"

"Friday."

Ben glanced at his desk calendar, "That's Peter's career day."

"Oh yeah...well, it's a perfect opportunity for you to be able to persuade him that criminal law is not the way forwards."

"Oh I don't know, he might enjoy it. He's certainly been showing more of an interest in the law over the last few months."

"I thought he wanted to play professional baseball?"

"He does, but you know how difficult it can be to get scholarships on that basis and everyone's got to have a backup plan, right?" Ben smiled, thinking back to the conversation he had had with Peter a few weeks earlier when his son had asked if he could come to the DA's office for career day and shadow him. He had felt an unmistakable sense of pride and, dare he say excitement, in being able to show him what the job really involved. To have either of his children show even the slightest interest in the law he loved so much was more than he could have ever hoped for.

"Well you'll know best," Adam said. "I still think you should be encouraging him to look at more lucrative avenues of law. Estates, tax, corporations...that sort of thing."

"The boring bits you mean."

"The bits that won't leave you questioning your reasoning and morals everyday. The bits that ensure that you have a nice fat pension to retire on." Adam opened the side door. "Look at those applications. Interviews shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, tops. You can always send Peter to court with Jack and Claire. They're due to go to trial next week with the Miller arson case."

"Sure," Ben nodded, "I'm sure he'd enjoy that. Oh, Adam..." he stopped the other man as he was about to leave. "Are you doing anything on April 14th?"

Adam frowned, "Nothing immediately comes to mind, why?"

"Keep it free, will you?"

"For what?"

Ben smiled again, "You'll see."

XXXX

"Why don't you talk me through the trial?"

"Why don't you just read the transcript?"

Derek smiled, though Evelyn could tell he was fighting hard to control his temper. "Because I'm asking you to talk me through the trial from your perspective." She sighed heavily. "Look, I know you think this is a waste of time, but as the boss around here I have to investigate all complaints made against my attorneys and, today, that means you."

Evelyn shook her head, feeling like an errant schoolgirl being brought up before the headmaster. Shambala had represented Timothy Conner at his sentencing hearing where Judge Stein had sentenced him to three years in jail, only one more than he would have got had he taken the deal offered by Frank Lake. It wasn't a bad result, but Timothy had taken it badly and was still shouting about defective representation.

"I told him right from the beginning that the state had a good case and that it was fairly straightforward. They had the victim of the robbery who could identify him and they had an independent eyewitness, not to mention the fact that a glove was dropped at the scene that had his DNA on it. I told him he should take a plea."

"And his defence was what?"

"Mistaken identity."

"And did you put that to all of the witnesses?"

It was Evelyn's turn to try and control her temper. "Of course I did. I asked them both repeatedly if they could have been mistaken about who they saw. Neither of them were able to be shaken on the point."

"What about the glove?"

"I argued that it was a moveable item that could have been there for days or even weeks before the robbery took place or that someone else could have inadvertently picked it up and then have dropped it. The jury clearly didn't accept either of those alternatives."

Derek sat back in his chair, "And how was Mr Conner on the stand?"

"To be honest, lousy," Evelyn replied. "He came across as being completely uptight and argumentative. I don't care what he says, Frank went pretty easy on him in cross-examination. The jury just didn't like him and I don't blame them."

"He said that when you came back to court after lunch on the first day, you were distracted for the rest of the afternoon," Derek paused. "Is there anything in that?"

"No, of course not," she lied. "I did my job that afternoon just as well as I had done that morning." He looked at her for a long moment. "You think I'm lying? Why don't you ask Frank or his assistant if they noticed anything untoward? Hell, why not ask Judge Stein herself?!"

"Ok..." Derek said, holding up his hands, "this isn't a witch hunt..."

"No? It certainly feels like one." To her embarrassment, Evelyn felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes and she looked away, hoping that he couldn't see her emotion. It would be nothing short of pathetic for a forty year old woman with her level of experience to start crying in her boss's office just because he was questioning her about a case.

 _What the hell is wrong with me...?_

"You've been through a lot lately," Derek said, his tone softer. "The shooting, losing the baby, your husband dying..."

"I'm fine..."

"I know. All I'm saying is, nobody could blame you for being a little...off your game."

She glared at him, incensed by the insinuation. "I am _not_ off my game. If you don't like the work I'm doing here, then fire me, but if you want to do that based on what that _idiot_ told you, then more fool you."

"I'm not going to fire you, Evelyn. As far as I can tell from what you've said, Mr Conner doesn't have any grounds for complaint. He also doesn't have any grounds for appeal. Shambala and I have looked things over and we both agree on that point. So, I'm going to go back and tell him that."

"Fine. Good."

"Ok then."

"Fine," she repeated, getting to her feet. "Can I go now?"

"Of course," he replied, gesturing to the door. "I'm sorry that you feel victimised but...I have to check every complaint."

"Sure," she replied, pulling the door open. "Whatever." Barrelling her way down the hallway, she ignored everyone she passed until she reached the sanctity of her own office, closing the door firmly behind her. She surveyed her desk in front of her, groaning with files for cases she hadn't even gotten around to looking at. Not to mention the fact that she was convinced a few more had been added to the pile since she had gone into her meeting with Derek.

Slowly she walked around to her chair, sat down and pulled herself into the desk. Her hand hovered over the mounds of paper, her brain trying to decide where to start first. That homicide? This robbery? The carjacking over there? Instead, she slid open the top drawer of her desk and pulled out the papers that had arrived for her that morning. They were still in the envelope, sealed and bearing the United Kingdom coat of arms and the British flag.

Taking her letter opener, she slit the paper and pulled out the contents, her heart quickening at the heading on the covering letter.

 **Application for work visa enabling employment in the United Kingdom.**

Though she had a million and one other things to do, she started to read over the letter and the accompanying forms and the guidance notes. She read every word and then read it all again, her mind already picturing where it could all lead.

Then she picked up her pen.

XXXX

That evening, when she got back to the apartment, Peter was the only one home. Ben was working late and Pamela was at her art club, so Evelyn took some leftovers out of the fridge and prepared a meal for the two of them, Peter seemingly grateful for a break from his homework.

"I'm going to Dad's office next week," he said, between mouthfuls.

"Are you?" she replied, distractedly.

"Yeah, for career day, remember?"

She vaguely did, "Oh yeah. Well I hope you find it interesting."

"Do you think I should go to law school?"

It wasn't a conversation she was really in the mood for having, but she tried to fake interest, like always, and smiled at him. "If it's what you want to do... but you'd need to have a degree first, remember."

"I know..." he mused. "That's the part I'm not sure about. What would be a good degree to do first? What did you do?"

"English," she replied. "I think that's what your Dad did too."

"Makes sense." There was another prolonged silence. "Do you think I'll get to see a real trial next week?"

"Probably. There's usually one going on somewhere."

"I mean with Dad. Will he have one running on Friday?"

"I really don't know," she sighed. "You'd have to ask him. I'm not sure what he's down for next week. But I'm sure that if he doesn't have one he can let you go and watch one with somebody else."

"Maybe Claire?"

"Maybe." Evelyn put her fork down and let out a half-laugh. "You know...I'm really not that hungry tonight."

"It's good," Peter said supportively, as if it was the food that was the problem.

"Thanks," she said, scraping her chair back. "As long as you like it, I guess that's the main thing."

"You're not bad at it you know," he said as she headed to the kitchen with her still-full plate.

"Not bad at what, cooking?"

"At being a stepmom."

She paused at his words and turned back around to look at him. He was focused on his plate, digging into the food with the hunger that most teenage boys seemed to possess and she felt a stabbing deep within. They were good kids, both of them, and they had already been through so much. How could she be so selfish?

Hot tears pooled in her eyes as she went into the kitchen and scraped the remains of her food into the trash before rinsing her plate and cutlery, putting the rest of the leftovers into a sealed dish in case Pamela or Ben wanted any when they got home and then wiping down the counter. Peter eventually joined her, wordlessly handing her his, now empty plate, before disappearing back into his room to finish his homework. In the silence that followed, she found that she wasn't sure what to do, so she went into the bedroom, changed into her sweats and then lay on the top of the bed, trying and failing to read a magazine she had bought so long ago that the gossip now all seemed irrelevant and out of date.

An hour or so later, she heard the front door bang and voices in the living room indicating that Pamela and Ben were home. Though she would have preferred to have remained in solitude, she made herself get up and go out to greet them. She forced herself to ask Pamela about her club and Ben about his day. She made herself laugh at Peter's growing excitement about going to Ben's office and his childlike enthusiasm about what he might get to do. She pretended to relax when they all sat down to watch television and Ben put his arm around her shoulder and later, much later, she pretended to want him as much as he wanted her.

Afterwards, she lay in the dark, blinking back silent tears, listening to the sound of his breathing and hating herself just that little bit more.

 _Coward..._ her inner voice whispered... _fucking coward..._

XXXX

"Stay out of Harlem," Ben said, pulling on his jacket. "It's not safe."

Evelyn looked up from where she was pouring herself a cup of coffee and frowned. "Why, what's happened?"

"There's protests...riots..." he shook his head. "The black community is up in arms, all because we didn't get an indictment on Joshua Berger."

"Who?"

"Joshua Berger," he repeated. "The Jewish businessman that killed the black kid in Harlem last week, remember? The Grand Jury refused to indict, which was the right decision I should add."

"Oh...yeah..." she looked back down into her coffee cup. "Well I don't have cause to be near Harlem today so I think I'll be fine."

"I told Peter and Pamela the same."

" _They're_ hardly going to be in Harlem."

"Well you never know." Ben paused, lifting his briefcase from behind the door. "Is everything all right?"

"Fine, why do you ask?" Evelyn replied, looking up again.

"No reason," he said. "You just seem quiet this morning, that's all."

"It was a busy weekend. Coming at the end of a busy week."

"I know." He crossed the room towards her and kissed her. "If it makes it any better, I know Peter's always grateful that you go to all his games. Not to mention it was good of you to take Pamela shopping yesterday, thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," she replied, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I enjoyed doing both those things."

He kissed her again. "You're not planning on working late tonight, are you?"

"No. In fact, I'm finishing early today. I've got a session with Elizabeth."

"Good," he said. "I'm glad they seem to be going well. Maybe the four of us could go out for ice cream tonight then?"

"On a Monday? You _are_ being reckless," she said, smiling and kissing him back. "Now _you_ make sure you stay out of Harlem. After all your warnings to us it would be a bit of a waste if you were the one who ended up in the middle of a riot."

"Oh don't worry," he replied good-naturedly. "I'll be safely tucked up in my office going over the application forms for Friday's interviews."

"Ah yes, ...for your new assistant?"

"One and the same."

"Well, at least if you get to be in on the interviews you won't be able to complain about who you end up with this time."

"The last one was pretty terrible but the one before that..." he pulled her close. "Now she was good."

She laughed and wriggled free. "You're going to be late."

"Shoot," he looked at his watch. "What about you?"

"I'm due at Rikers at ten so I'm going straight there."

"Ok, have a good day," he said, opening the door.

"You too."

The traffic was heavy and he was a little later getting into the office than he would have liked, but given that he wasn't due in court and was meant to be spending time, at Adam's insistence, looking at the applications, he figured that it probably really didn't matter. Making himself a coffee from the machine, which still tasted pretty poor, he made himself comfortable and lifted the first resume.

Forty minutes later and he had separated the applications into two piles; a decent pile and a 'what was Adam thinking about pile.' There were five in the former pile, four in the latter and, after another cup of coffee, he made up his mind that he was going to take Adam to task and have him cancel the four interviews for the four lesser candidates. After all, whoever got the job was going to be _his_ assistant.

One application in particular had stood out as being of interest. Vanessa Hart, thirty-four, married, three kids under seven, her youngest still a baby. She had spent four years at Brooklyn Legal Aid before transferring to the Brooklyn DA's office before resigning after having her most recent child. She had felony experience and her covering letter was by far the most articulate. Without even meeting her, she was definitely his preferred candidate by far. With a wry smile, he wondered what Evelyn would think about him hiring another woman.

"Lesley..." he said when Adam's secretary lifted the phone in response to his call. "It's Ben, is he in?"

"He's on a call at the moment," she replied. "But he should be free in about ten minutes?"

"Great, tell him not to take any calls after that one. I want to talk to him about these felony assistant applications."

"Sure, I'll tell him."

"Fine." He put the phone down just as Celia came in bearing the morning mail. "Good morning," he greeted her.

"Morning sir," she replied, handing it to him. "I've had a quick scan through and put the most time sensitive letters to the top."

"Thanks," Ben replied, though he often wondered why she went through the rigmarole of telling him that every morning, given it had been her habit for all the years they had worked together, more than he often cared to remember. She hovered slightly at his side and he found himself looking at her. "Something wrong?"

"Uh...no," Celia replied, her cheeks pinking slightly. "Do you need anything?"

"No, just hold my calls. I'm about to go into a meeting with Mr Schiff."

"Fine," she replied, before scuttling out and closing the door softly behind her.

Slightly bemused, but unconcerned enough to give it too much thought, Ben put on his glasses and started sifting through the mail she had passed him. There was nothing of any great interest; the latest edition of his college newsletter, a letter from a fellow attorney requesting a copy of a recent file in order for the attorney to decide whether or not to raise a civil claim against the office for prosecutorial misconduct, a motion filed by Arthur Gold in a case he was trying to put to the back of his mind but which, frustratingly, had a return date of Wednesday...

And then there was another letter. A letter Celia had put at the bottom of the pile. A letter bearing the insignia of the British Embassy which, at first glance, was in fact addressed to Adam and marked **Private and Confidential**. He made to put it on top of the pile of the applications, in order to give it to Adam when he saw him, and made a mental note to tell Celia to take greater care in future, when something in the letter caught his eye.

Scanning it quickly, he realised that it was a request for employment information, in particular, a reference for one Evelyn Burns/Nicholls who, the embassy was given to understand, had worked at the DA's office from May to September 1993.

Ben frowned. Evelyn had said nothing about applying for a job at the embassy. She had made no mention of being unhappy at the public defenders' office and, in any event, what did she know about any of the legal systems in the United Kingdom? He knew he shouldn't read on, but his innate curiosity had been piqued and, as he did, he felt a coldness start to creep through him.

It wasn't a request for a reference in relation to an application for employment at the embassy.

 ** _We require such information in order to assist us in assessing Ms Nicholls' suitability for a work visa, enabling her to obtain employment in the United Kingdom as per her recent application._**

The letter fluttered from his hand down onto his desk.

His stomach dropped and his heart slowed.

The phone on his desk rang suddenly and he stared at it, almost uncomprehendingly before reaching out and lifting the receiver.

"Ben," Adam said sharply, before he could issue a greeting. "I need you in my office right now."

"Uh..." he fought for speech. "Why...what...?"

"It's all kicked off in Harlem. They just killed somebody."


	33. Chapter 33

**So I'm taking the view that as long as I'm churning the chapters out I should just get them uploaded for you. This week makes up for some of the times when I've dragged my heels. Hope you enjoy it and please review.**

 **Cynthia, how funny that you share Evelyn's random birthday! So long as you don't share any other aspects of her life!**

Ben found himself sleepwalking through the rest of the day.

Through the horror of hearing about the murder of John DeSantos, an innocent man driving through Harlem, pulled from his car and beaten to death in front of his wife and a baying mob. Fortunately, the incident had been caught by the news cameras and so the police at least had some leads in tracking down the perpetrator.

Through speaking with Adam about the applications he had read and convincing his boss to cancel the interviews for the four candidates that he knew would never be suited to the job.

Through carefully, yet discreetly, placing the letter from the embassy on Adam's desk so that he would eventually see it.

Through working on an argument to counter Arthur Gold's motion and hopefully not see the case dismissed before it even reached a Grand Jury.

Through countless, meaningless phone calls.

Through a meeting with a nervous, stuttering attorney seeking a plea for one of his clients.

Through the whole God damn day.

When he allowed himself to think about what he had read, he tried to rationalise it in his own mind. The application could have been made months ago, perhaps after the attack at the Algonquin when she had been adrift from him and he hadn't known if they had any future together. But the thought, although briefly comforting, was soon dispelled by the reminder that she had obviously mentioned on her application that she had left the DA's office in September and that, obviously, the application had to have been more recent.

He thought about how it couldn't have been done on a whim. She would have needed to fill out a lengthy application, not to mention have someone to sponsor her and provide employment in the UK and it had been over lunch, when he had sat at his desk staring into space, that he had realised the one person who would have been in a prime position to provide Evelyn with what she needed would have been her own cousin.

Sarah.

What an idiot she must have thought he was, spouting on about a surprise wedding whilst all along she must have known that Evelyn had no intention of staying in New York, much less marrying him.

And that was what hurt the most. It wasn't even so much the fact that she had made this momentous decision without discussing it with him, or sharing her feelings. It was that the ultimate result of that decision was her choosing to leave him. He found himself veering between anger and distress, unsure from one minute to the next which to give more prominence to. He went from thinking _how could she decide this without telling me_ to _what have I done to make her want to do this?_

When he got home that night, they were all there.

Evelyn, Peter, Pamela.

His family.

The one he had constructed in his mind, not to mention his heart.

Peter was coming in and out of his room, complaining loudly about how much math homework he had. Pamela was following Evelyn around the living room, periodically showing her drawings that she had done that day in school. Evelyn was moving between the living room and the kitchen, turning on the cooker, looking in the cupboards, starting to set the table.

It was all a scene of normal, domestic bliss.

It was all a lie.

"Hey Dad," Peter greeted him, catching sight of him standing just inside the door.

"Dad, look at my picture," Pamela skipped over to him, thrusting a piece of paper at him that depicted the New York skyline. It was stunning and so professionally done for a girl her age that, under any other circumstances, he would have wanted to hear all about it, what her inspiration had been, what her teacher had said about it. All he could manage to muster, however, was a brief nod and a few words of muted appreciation.

"Hi," Evelyn said, as she brought plates through from the kitchen into the living room. "Is pasta ok? I know it's a bit boring but I was later back from my session that I thought I would be."

"It's fine," he replied quietly. Of course, her session with Elizabeth. How could he have forgotten? As he put his briefcase down on the floor, took off his coat and hung it on the peg, he couldn't help but wonder if she had confided in Elizabeth. Perhaps she had told her all about her plans to flee across the Atlantic. Perhaps Elizabeth had even encouraged her. After all, she had been so adamant before that Evelyn should learn to stand on her own two feet without a man.

Without him.

In the bathroom, he washed up and then stared at himself in the mirror, seeking an answer from his reflection on what he should do. Maybe he should say nothing, pretend he hadn't seen the letter and wait for her to eventually tell him. He presumed that _was_ her plan, unless she intended simply to say she was going to work one morning and just never come back. But lying...pretending...it wasn't him and he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep up a convincing charade.

Not like she clearly could.

Anger was winning at the moment.

How many times, he wondered, leaning against the sink. How many times had she lain beneath him, straddled him, fellated him, groaned his name and gasped in pleasure at his touch while all the time known that she was planning to go? When they had been at the hotel for his birthday and talked about babies and marriage...had she known then too? He shook his head at his reflection in disbelief.

She was a better actress than he had ever given her credit for.

When he came back into the living room, dinner was ready and on the table. Peter and Pamela's chatter washed over him as he forced himself to eat, though he had little appetite. Evelyn contributed to the conversation as though it were just another day. She laughed at Peter's terrible jokes and sided with Pamela when her brother gently teased her and when their plates were empty, she followed the two of them into the kitchen and jokingly gave orders about whose turn it was to do what.

He couldn't stand it.

She wasn't just lying to him after all.

Getting up from his chair, he went to his jacket and pulled out his wallet. "Peter?"

"Yeah?" Peter replied, sticking his head out of the kitchen.

He held out some money, "Why don't you take your sister to _Aldo's_ and get some ice-cream?"

"Now?" Peter frowned.

"Yes, now."

"But I haven't finished my homework."

He smiled, momentarily warmed by his son's dedication to his studies. "I know, but you can finish it when you come back."

"But it's Monday," Pamela joined them, seemingly equally confused.

"I know," he repeated. "So you should take advantage of my offer, don't you think?" They looked at each other for a second, then rushed forward to grab their coats, Peter taking the money from him at the same time. "Don't be too late," he said, somewhat redundantly as the apartment door swung closed behind them.

"Wow," Evelyn said, appearing at the kitchen door. "That's a first. What's gotten into you? I thought we were all going to go."

He looked at her, at the smile on her face and felt his stomach turn over. Maybe he had it all wrong. Maybe he had made some terrible mistake and she was about to put everything right in his mind. Maybe she would smile and come towards him, wrap her arms around him and tell him it had been a stupid mistake that she had long since forgotten about. That she had submitted the application in a moment of madness. Maybe they would take advantage of the empty apartment and go to bed and she would hold him and gently chastise him for being so silly.

"I don't want them to hear this."

Her smile faded slightly. "Hear what?"

He took a breath, "I think you have something to tell me, don't you?" She frowned but said nothing. "Adam got a letter today. Or rather, _I_ did because it somehow ended up mixed in with my mail." He paused, but again she said nothing. "A letter from the British embassy."

Her face suddenly paled.

"A letter..." he continued, hearing his voice shake on the words, "asking for a reference for you in order to assist them in assessing your visa application."

The words hung heavy in the air between them. Her gaze dropped, her whole demeanour changing into an imitation of a defendant presented with the final piece of damning evidence against them. Her hands dropped to her sides and she closed her eyes. "Oh..." she breathed out quietly. "I didn't...I wouldn't have..."

 _Please God tell me it's all been a horrible mistake._

"You shouldn't have found out like that."

He felt his insides splinter.

"So...it's true? You've applied for a visa to go and work in the UK?" She opened her eyes and met his gaze, instantly telling him everything that she couldn't seem to articulate. "And...you didn't tell me you were doing this because...?"

"Because I knew that you wouldn't understand."

"You're...uh...you're damn right about that..." he said, swallowing hard against the lump of emotion rising in his throat. There were a million questions he needed answers to and yet, at that moment, he couldn't think what to ask first. "You...uh...you..."

"I don't want to hurt you," she said, moving towards him, her expression beseeching. "Please Ben, you have to know that..."

"I don't know anything," he said, stepping away from her, needing that physical distance. "I thought I did. I thought I knew _you_ but evidently I don't. How...how long have you been planning this behind my back?"

Evelyn looked at the floor. "Sarah offered me a job at her company last year and I turned her down. I hadn't given it any more thought until...until Eddie died and I found out about Lily..."

"This...this is about Edward?" he interrupted, shocked despite a part of him wondering why. "You've decided to just...up sticks and leave New York...leave me and the kids...because of _him?_ Evelyn, the man is _dead!_ "

"I know that!" she cried. "I'm not stupid!"

"Really?" he shot back unkindly. "I'm starting to wonder!"

"Ben..." she shook her head. "For a good, kind, thoughtful man...for a perceptive prosecutor...you really haven't seen it?"

"Seen what?"

Her voice cracked and her eyes filled with tears, "That I am... _so_ unhappy..."

He stared at her, uncomprehendingly. "Since...since when?" She shook her head, the tears starting to slide down her cheeks. "You're not...we're not..." he fought for his mouth to catch up with his brain. "I've done _everything_ I could possibly think of to make you happy, to show you that I love you, to give you everything that I thought you wanted..." He took a breath, trying to steady himself. "We're a family...we're supposed to be getting married..."

"I'm sorry..."

"Is it me? Have I done something?"

"No," she said earnestly. "It's not you, Ben, this isn't about you or anything you've done or not done..."

"Then is there someone else?"

"God no!" she exclaimed. "No, not in a million years would I...this is about me. It's about me and Eddie and everything that's happened over the last year. I can't..." she swallowed hard, "I just can't deal with it anymore. I don't know how and...and I think that I need to get away. I think I need a fresh start, somewhere new where...where I can try and find some peace in my head. Right now...right now I feel...I feel like I can't breathe..."

"But you've been seeing Liz," he argued, searching for a positive. "You said that the sessions were going well, that you thought you were making progress..." he trailed off as she shook her head. "You _seemed_ happy."

"I've been pretending," she sat down heavily on the arm of the couch and wiped her face on her sleeve. "I've been pretending that everything has been ok, that I've not been...drowning in my own thoughts and fears and pressures. Here...at work...even in the sessions...I have so many dark thoughts and it doesn't matter what I do I can't seem to get rid of them, no matter how hard I try to appear as though I can."

"Ok..." he said, trying to think practically, yet wildly. "Ok, I can understand that. You've been through so much, nobody could ever deny that, and...and it's proved more difficult than we thought for you to move past it so...so there must be something else that we could try. Maybe a...a different therapist. Maybe Liz isn't the right one. Maybe, you should speak to a doctor..."

"Ben..."

"I'm not saying that I would ever advocate anyone choosing to take medication but if it would help..." he rambled on, desperate to come up with a solution, praying that he would say something that would cause a lightbulb moment for her and make her decide that leaving him wasn't the solution she clearly thought it was.

"No!" she said sharply, causing him to pause and look at her again. "You're not _listening_ to me! I tried to tell you about how I felt. I tried to tell you what learning about Eddie's betrayal had done to me and you...you pushed my concerns to the side and told me to think about our future..."

"What's wrong with that?" he demanded. "I don't want you to think about him! What man would? He hurt you for so many years and now he's gone and it's over and I want you to..."

"But it _isn't_ over!" she got to her feet again. "That's what you and everybody else in my life can't see! It _isn't_ over for me! It will never be _over_ for me! I could have come to terms with what he did to me physically, given time, but this...this new revelation about Lily and her son...the lies and...and the deceit...I...I can't..."

"It doesn't have anything to _do_ with you now!" he insisted. "Please! You need to try and let it go!"

"I can't!"

He had never felt so desperate. "You have to!"

"Why?!" she shouted. "Why? So I can fit in with your idea of what our perfect life should be now?! Us married and living here?! Maybe a baby of our own?! Me as the devoted stepmother?! A house upstate with seven bedrooms and a tyre swing in the backyard?!"

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. Everything he had wanted for them, everything he had thought about for the future, everything he had assumed she wanted too...she was throwing all of it back in his face...and he hadn't seen it coming.

"I thought..."

"You thought what? That I wanted all those things?"

"Yes," he admitted quietly.

"Maybe I do," she conceded, sniffing. "Maybe I do, in time, but right now...right now I can't deal with...with your expectations..."

"Expectations?" he echoed. "I have never had any expectations of anything! Yes, I admit that I thought you wanted all the same things I did, but that's it. I've never pushed you into anything. You were the one who came running back to me when we separated last year, remember? You were the one who encouraged me to go for custody of the kids..."

"That was the right thing to do," she said quietly.

"And now you want to leave us. Now you want to leave Peter and Pamela, who have already been through so much. Now you want to leave me..."

"Ben..." Evelyn closed her eyes again. "You and I...it's been so intense right from the beginning. We had barely sorted out our feelings for each other when I fell pregnant and then the shooting..." she opened them again. "Now the kids...it's almost like...it's almost like I was on the rebound and jumped headfirst into something that, in reality, was too much for me to handle."

"Rebound...wow..." he felt himself grow angry again. "Did Liz give you that one?"

"No."

"Rebound suggests a relationship that you enter into whilst trying to get over someone you loved and cared about. Edward _abused_ you! You _hated_ him!"

"I know."

Another thought suddenly struck his already overloaded brain. "If you had never been shot, or if you had never lost the baby...you would be due to give birth in a few weeks. Would you still be leaving me?"

She looked at him, devastation etched on her face. "You know I can't answer that."

"Would you still be leaving me?!"

"What does it matter? I _was_ shot! I _did_ lose the baby!"

"Would you still be leaving me?! He demanded. "Would you be leaving me and taking my child away? Dumb luck it happened to me once, but twice...?"

She paused. "I am _not_ Laura. I've already told you that I'm not doing this because of you!"

"No? Well it sure as hell hurts as much as it did when she walked out, maybe even more."

Who was he kidding? Losing Laura and the children had been an awful, terrible time but this...this somehow felt a hundred times worse.

"I guess I'm just the fool who can't tell when I'm pushing the people I love the most away."

"Don't say that," she said, her lip quivering again. "You're a good man. Please don't say that about yourself."

"Why not? It's obviously true."

Evelyn sighed and ran her hand over her face, glancing around the room as she did so. "Maybe...maybe it would be better if I left..."

"And went where?"

"I don't know...my mother's. I could stay with her for a while until...until we sort a few things out."

Ben knew he was about to do the same dance from ten years ago. He had begged Laura to stay, to reconsider, to think about what she was doing to their family and, now, here he was...about to beg another woman not to leave. Part of him felt as though he should have more self-respect but without Evelyn...the thought terrified him more than he could have ever thought possible.

"Please..." he moved over to stand in front of her, distress coming to the fore again. "Please, don't do this. Go to your mother's if you want to have some space but don't...don't make any long term decisions right now. I mean, your application hasn't been approved yet so you don't know..."

"But it will be," she said, her eyes pained. "There's no reason for them to decline it."

"Take some time," he urged. "Think about it. I won't...I won't pressure you, I swear. Just please..."

"Ben..."

"Please!" He grabbed hold of her arms, to try and make her listen, but the look that suddenly crossed her face made him instantly drop his hands. "I'm sorry," he said. "This is..." he broke off, unable to finish his sentence.

Wordlessly she moved past him into the bedroom and he stood, rooted to the spot, listening to the sound of her pulling clothes out of the drawers and wardrobes until she appeared back in front of him, bag in hand. "For what it's worth, it took me a long time to decide to apply for the visa and...and I was going to tell you."

"Really?" Anger flushed through him again at the casual way she was trying to redeem herself. As if eventually deigning to tell him would have made any difference to how wretched he felt. "When?"

"I...I don't know. I guess when I found out whether or not they had approved my application."

"Well you said yourself they would be unlikely to decline it, so..."

"I know."

"I guess you and Sarah had a good laugh at my expense, huh?"

"No," she said, "of course not."

"I bet she couldn't wait to tell you about the wedding."

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I mean when I spoke to her last week. When I invited her to the wedding that I was planning as a surprise for you." He laughed bitterly. "She did a really good job of pretending that she'd need to check her schedule."

"I..." Evelyn stared at him wide-eyed. "I didn't know...she never...I haven't talked to her..."

This time, he could tell she was being honest. "Well maybe it's just as well."

"Oh Ben..." she pressed her hand to her mouth, a sob bursting forth. "I do love you."

He nodded, suddenly wishing desperately that she was gone. "Just not enough, huh?"

"Don't say that, please."

"If you're going to go, just go."

After a moment's hesitation she moved towards the door and then turned back to face him, her face once again streaked with tears. "What are you going to tell the kids?"

"The truth," he replied bitterly. "But I suppose that would be a novel concept to you." He turned his back on her, effectively ending the conversation, waiting until he heard the door click to signal her exit before he broke down. He had no idea how long it would be before Peter and Pamela came back. They could even cross paths with Evelyn on the stairs for all he knew, but he couldn't contain it any longer. He sank down onto the couch and let himself go in a way that he hadn't since allowing himself to grieve for the loss of their baby.

He was a fool.

He had to be.

Not to mention a pathetic excuse for a man, for a partner. Nobody could have two women walk away from them and not be somehow to blame. He had long since come to terms with his own failings as far as his marriage was concerned but this...if it really was the end...

He loved her. God help him, but he loved her. The first woman in ten years to light his fire, to make him believe in second chances and now...now she was leaving and taking his torn heart with her.

"Where's Evelyn?" Pamela asked when she and Peter returned twenty minutes later to find him sat on the couch waiting for them, his tears long dried.

"God, I'm stuffed!" Peter exclaimed, flopping down on the couch beside him. "I know you said I had to finish my homework but I think I need to lie here for a while and just...recover."

"Dad?" Pamela pressed when he didn't immediately answer. "Where's Evelyn?"

"Sit down Pam," he said quietly. "There's something that I need to tell you both."


	34. Chapter 34

**Over the next few chapters, I'll be using some of the scenes and dialogue from the season 4 episode 'Sanctuary' for my own purposes. Obviously I don't own anything that you recognise.**

 **Enjoy and please review if you can :)**

 **March 1994**

 **Four days later**

The sound of his office door opening, and the sight of Claire appearing in front of him, roused Ben from his reverie and forced him to pretend that he had been doing something other than thinking about Evelyn and the events of the last few days. He shuffled the papers in front of him and then looked at his visitor expectantly.

"Peter's gone off to court with Frank," she said.

"Great, thanks," Ben replied, feeling relieved. Since Evelyn had left he had been dreading Peter coming to the office with him for career day, not because he didn't want to spend the time with him or show him the reality of practicing law, but because he knew that his son would be unable to stop himself from asking Ben questions that he couldn't answer.

Both he and Pamela had been upset when he had explained, as gently as he possibly could, that Evelyn had left to go and stay with her mother, that it was unlikely that they were going to be getting married and that there was a high possibility that she was going to be leaving New York to go and live in London.

"But why?" Pamela had repeatedly wailed. "What did we do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Ben had reassured her firmly. "This is about Evelyn and I and it has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with you."

"Then why is she leaving?" Peter had asked quietly and Ben had had no answer for him. In the days that had followed, he had hoped that Evelyn might call or come by the apartment, hoped that they might have had the chance to have a more rational and less emotional conversation. But he had heard nothing from her and though he found himself desperate to see and speak to her, he stopped himself each time his hand reached for the phone.

"He seemed a little..." Claire said, leaving her sentence hanging.

"A little what?"

"I don't know...out of sorts? He didn't seem particularly enthused about going to court, whereas I would have thought that's the part he would have been most interested in. Even when Frank told him it was a homicide, which will be far more interesting than the arson Jack and I were meant to be prosecuting before he went and got himself tossed off his bike, he still seemed pretty subdued."

"He's fine," Ben said, glancing down at the papers in front of him. After explaining things as best he could to the children, he had told them that, for the moment, it was news that they should try and keep to themselves. Selfishly, he didn't want everyone knowing about the breakdown of his relationship and, more than that, he still harboured some small hope that Evelyn might change her mind.

"Ok," Claire replied. "So...what do you want to do about Isaac Roberts?"

Ben sighed and took off his glasses. Isaac Roberts, a young black man in his early twenties, had been identified as the person captured on camera beating John DeSantos to death in Harlem. Unfortunately, the police had so far been unable to locate him, but they had found an address for his grandmother and seemed convinced that she knew where he was hiding. "Have the police pick up the grandmother and bring her down here for questioning."

"Wouldn't it be better if we went to her?" Claire asked.

"Why?"

"Well it might seem as though we're trying to intimidate her by bringing her all the way down here."

"We _are_ trying to intimidate her," Ben replied. "Her grandson murdered an innocent man and she's protecting him. Have her picked up, brought down here and make sure there's a uniformed officer waiting outside. Oh and notify Legal Aid. I want her represented. I don't want there to be any suggestion of any violation of her right to counsel."

"Fine," Claire said, turning for the door before pausing and turning back to face him. "Is everything ok?"

He looked up at her. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well it's just..."

"Just what?"

"You seem a little..."

"A little what?" he snapped. "On edge?"

"Well, yes."

"Claire, there's a young man out there, roaming around the city, thinking it's his right to decide who lives and who dies because of a case that had absolutely nothing to do with him. Until he's in custody, yes, I'm on edge! Now, can you please just go and arrange for Mrs Roberts to be brought down here?" Claire nodded silently and made her way back out of his office, closing the door quietly behind her. Once alone, Ben let out a long breath and put his head in his hands, hating the fact that he had spoken to her like that and yet finding it harder and harder to keep his emotions in check. After all, it wasn't _her_ fault that he was feeling the way he was.

It was Evelyn's.

And his own.

XXXX

"Can you believe this? I mean, it's ridiculous! They might as well have handcuffed her and taken her to the nearest precinct!" Evelyn watched as Shambala tossed items into her handbag and then started digging around in her desk for a notepad and pen. "Honestly! It's meant to be prosecution not persecution! I've a good mind to put that fiancé of yours up against the wall! How dare he use these intimidating tactics on a woman who has never broken the law in her life!"

"What's happened?" she asked.

"Oh, Ben has only gone and had Carina Roberts dragged down to his office for questioning, no doubt hoping that she'll be so worried and upset that she'll reveal where Isaac is. That's if she even _knows_ where he is." Shambala straightened up and shook her head. "It's a good thing he's your fiancé and not mine because I think our relationship would have been over after this little stunt! I'd better go. I don't want Carina having to sit there any longer than is absolutely necessary!"

"Shambala..." Evelyn said, as she made to move past her. "If you're going to see Ben, then there's probably something I should tell you."

"What, like some sort of secret code I can use to alert him to what a huge mistake he's making here?"

"No..." she paused. "It's just..."

"It's just what?"

"Ben and I aren't together anymore. I moved out of the apartment on Monday night and...we're not going to be getting married."

Hearing herself say the words made her insides turn over. In the four days since she had left the apartment, bag in hand, she had thought about little else except how much she knew she had hurt Ben. The look on his face haunted her whenever she closed her eyes and at night she could hear his voice in her head, begging her to reconsider her decision, so much so that she had taken to drinking scotch each evening before bed in an effort to drown him out. Her mother said little about this, but had opined openly on her future plans, telling her that she thought it sounded like a wonderful opportunity that she shouldn't turn down.

Shambala's eyes widened, "You're kidding."

"No," Evelyn shook her head sadly, "I'm not."

"Well...I mean I know it's none of my business but...what happened? You both seemed so..."

"Happy? That's the problem. I'm not and I haven't been for a while. He wants things that I don't think I do and...and he wants me to forget things that I'm not ready to forget yet."

"I see...can I assume then that ending things was _your_ idea?" Evelyn nodded and Shambala sighed sympathetically. "I am so sorry."

"There's more," Evelyn said, taking a breath. "I've decided to move to England to work for my cousin. I'm just waiting on my visa application being accepted and then...I'll be going." This time, Shambala just stared at her. "I know it probably sounds a little drastic..."

"A _little_ drastic? Evelyn that's..." Shambala shook her head. "I mean, I can understand you wanting to end the relationship if it doesn't make you happy but fleeing three thousand miles away across the Atlantic..."

"I'm not _fleeing_ ," Evelyn replied quickly. "It's not like that. I just...need a fresh start, that's all and this opportunity presented itself and, well, it seems like it might be just what I'm looking for right now."

Shambala put her hand on her hip, "Why are you telling me all this?"

Evelyn frowned, "Because you're my friend...and because I didn't want you to inadvertently say something to Ben or for him to say something to you and for you not to know the truth."

"I think we should talk about this..."

"There's nothing to talk about, not really."

"Still..." Shambala lifted her bag. "I have to go but maybe we could get a drink after work sometime? I'm sure that with all this going on you could use a sounding board."

"I don't..." Evelyn trailed off, telling herself that she shouldn't shun one of the few friends she had, even if the other woman's intention was to try to get her to change her mind. "Ok. That sounds good."

"Great. I'll come by your office when I'm done and we can get something set up,"

"Fine," Evelyn said as she swept out. "Whatever you want."

XXXX

"A little dramatic isn't it, counsellor?" Ben met Shambala's irritated gaze. "Dragging a fifty-four year old grandmother down here in a patrol car?"

"Your client may have committed a felony," Claire said.

"Ok, we confess. Mr Mulgrew at the corner store charged Mrs Roberts for a dozen tomatoes and she had thirteen in her bag. Carina, I knew we should have grabbed that picture of you out of the post office while we could."

"Uh, Ms Green, I just can't afford to be in a laughing mood today," Ben said, her whole tone and demeanour grating on him. When Shambala had swept into his office, full of indignation at his actions, he had been both relieved and disappointed that it wasn't Evelyn. After all, if they were no longer together, there would be no difficulty with them trying cases against each other.

"I'm sorry, next time I'll bring Richard Pryor with me."

Ben paused. The woman never failed to surprise him. He turned back to the other woman in front of him. "Mrs Roberts, we have reason to believe that your grandson murdered an innocent man. Now if you're concealing him, we could charge you with conspiracy and harbouring a fugitive."

"If you know where Isaac is, Mrs Roberts, you'd be doing yourself and your grandson a favour by telling us now," Claire pressed gently.

"The rest of his life in a white man's jail?" Mrs Roberts asked. "I've had better offers."

"Mrs Roberts..." Ben took off his glasses, convinced that she knew more than she was saying. "Where's your grandson?"

"She told you she has nothing to say!"

"Then you give me no choice," Ben replied, looking to Claire who rose from her seat, opened the office door and bade a uniformed police officer to enter. "Mrs Roberts, you're under arrest. Please read her her rights."

"Oh this is wonderful," Shambala said sarcastically.. "Joshua Berger gets off with a suspended licence and Carina Roberts is on her way to Rikers. Now what is wrong with this picture?"

"Mr Berger did not commit a felony," Ben replied tetchily.

"I have no problem with the law, counsellor, it's the application thereof...now that's another story..." Shambala lifted her handbag and headed to the door to follow her client.

"Ms Green, I assume _you_ have no knowledge of his whereabouts?" Ben said.

Shambala turned back to face him, surprise, indignation and, if he was reading her correctly, a little hurt all evident in her expression. For a second, he wondered if he had maybe gone too far. After all, she was a member of the bar even if she was a constant thorn in his side. "Always room for one more in that cell, right counsellor?" she said quietly. "You might want to look at your own life before you start passing judgement on everyone else's." She swept out of the room before he could say anything further and as her last few words sank in, he suddenly realised that Evelyn had obviously told her of their separation.

"What did she mean by _that?_ " Claire asked.

"She meant that she thought we were lumping all blacks together as criminals," he replied, sitting back down at his desk.

"No, I got that. I meant..."

"I know what you meant," he interrupted her, in a tone that he hoped conveyed the fact that he had no wish to discuss it further.

Fortunately, Claire seemed to understand. "I can handle Mrs Roberts' arraignment this afternoon. I can check on Peter while I'm down at court," she offered. "Make sure he's behaving himself."

"Thanks," Ben said, nodding at her as she left. "I'd appreciate that." The phone beside him rang suddenly and when he lifted it, it was Adam's secretary reminding him that the first of the five interviewees would be arriving in fifteen minutes. Slowly, he replaced the receiver and took another deep breath, trying to find the professionalism within to get him through the rest of the day.

 _Not just the rest of the day,_ he said to himself. _You need to get through the rest of your life._

XXXX

"I loved my job, but after I had Alison I realised that I couldn't effectively juggle a newborn, two pre-schoolers and a full time job all at the same time. Something had to give so, for a while, it was work. Now that my daughter's in full time daycare, I feel ready to pick up the reins again and when I saw that you were actively advertising for new assistants..."

"Well that was indeed fortuitous," Adam said. "Tell me Mrs Hart..."

"Oh it's Vanessa, please."

"Vanessa...wouldn't it have been easier to go back to the King's County DA's office?"

"I suppose it would have, but Mr Lazar told me that there were no available slots for ADA's and, to be honest, there's an atmosphere over there that I'm not comfortable in, more so since Edward Burns was murdered."

Ben, who had only been half-listening to what Vanessa Hart had been saying in response to Adam's questions, felt himself pulled back into focus by her last answer. "How do you mean?"

"Well...I don't _really_ know all the details given that I've been on leave but I do know that there are a lot of rumours going around about why he was killed and who was involved and, frankly, I'm not interested in becoming involved in any of that." Vanessa returned his gaze and he couldn't help but wonder if she was thinking anything about Evelyn or had connected her to him. "I'd be more than happy to start over here in Manhattan."

"Three kids and a husband who works a full time job..." Ben said before Adam could speak. "Do you think that you'll be able to commit to the hours that the job here demands?"

"Yes, of course. You should have seen from my references that I've had limited sick days and, like I said, my youngest is in day care and my other two are in school..."

"But what about late nights? Weekends? Holidays?" Ben pressed. "Just because you're a woman with children, it doesn't automatically follow that special dispensation would be given."

"What Ben means..." Adam said.

"I understand what Mr Stone means," Vanessa replied coolly. "I have never, nor would I ever, expect preferential treatment because I have children. I am more than willing to work late nights and weekends and holidays if needs be. Yes, my husband works full time, but we have a very supportive family who would be able to help us out in those situations."

"And given that you've been absent from work for the last year, are you fully up to date with the latest legal precedents?"

Vanessa looked at him levelly, "Yes," she replied. "I keep up to date with the journals and I have a lot of friends who work in the same field. I certainly don't intend to fall down on that score."

"Well..." Adam said, getting to his feet. "Thank you for coming in to see us and for answering all our questions so honestly. We'll be considering matters over the weekend and advising the successful candidate on Monday."

"Thank you for seeing me," Vanessa said, shaking his hand and then turning to Ben. "If you choose me, I won't let you down."

"I thought she was your favourite," Adam observed after the door had closed behind her.

"Sure, I liked her application," Ben replied with a shrug.

"Come on...when we spoke on Monday you said that you thought she was ideal. Instead, you spent the whole time she was in here either doing a poor job of pretending to listen to her or grilling her on points which, technically, you shouldn't have brought up."

"Why not? It's not unreasonable to ask about her commitment to the job. I don't want an assistant who constantly tells me at five o'clock that she has to run off to pick up her kids or can't cover weekend or night arraignment because she hasn't got any childcare."

"Are you forgetting the fact that you have two children living with you full time?"

"That's different, my kids are older. They don't need babysat. Peter's going to be sixteen in a few weeks."

"You heard her say that she has family who can help out, not to mention a husband."

"A spouse sometimes isn't all they're cracked up to be."

Adam paused. "What's the real problem here?"

"There's no problem," Ben replied tightly. "I just want to make sure that we consider all the candidates equally. I need to trust the person that I'm working with."

"And you wouldn't be able to trust Mrs Hart because...?"

Ben paused, finding himself crumbling slightly under Adam's quiet persistence. He had always felt so close to him, close enough for the older man to always be able to read him like a book. Keeping his initial relationship with Evelyn a secret from him had been difficult, but keeping the breakdown of it from him was most likely going to be impossible. He sat down on the couch and looked at the floor whilst Adam leant against the side of his desk.

"Evelyn's left me," he said finally. "She...uh...she wants to move to England to work for her cousin."

Adam said nothing for a long moment. "That'll be why the British embassy wrote to me looking for a reference. I thought, maybe, it had been a mistake. I was going to get Lesley to call them."

"No, it's no mistake. She's made the application and she's going to go as soon as it's approved. She's...uh...she's not happy here. She's not happy with me." He bit the inside of his mouth, determined beyond anything that he was not going to get emotional again.

Adam sighed and crossed the room to sit down beside him. "There's nothing you can say to change her mind?"

"I doubt it."

"Have you tried?"

"I told her to take some time to think about it, to not...rush into anything. I begged her..."

"I'm sorry, my boy."

"Yeah, so am I."

"Look, if you need to take some time off..."

"No," Ben shook his head and got to his feet, "No that's the last thing I need to do. I need to be here. I need to be working. I need to focus on something other...other than her. This case...Isaac Roberts...I'm pretty sure the grandmother will eventually tell us where he is or the cops will find him. He has to pay for what he did."

"I agree," Adam said, "but don't let your anger over what's happening to you personally cloud your professional judgement. I heard that you had the grandmother arrested this morning."

"She'll be arraigned this afternoon. Claire's going to handle it."

"You think putting the woman in jail is going to make her tell us where the boy is?"

"I'm hoping that the boy won't want to see his grandmother in jail," Ben replied, "and he'll give himself up."

"Well...you can always hope."

Ben nodded, "I can always hope."


	35. Chapter 35

**Again, some more 'Sanctuary' scenes here, which I don't own. I make no apologies for adding and changing things for my own purposes, including the time line. I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review if you can!**

 **Thank you to everyone still reading :)**

 **One week later**

The law library was surprisingly busy, but luckily Ben had been able to find a quiet table for he and Claire to do some research into Shambala's latest ludicrous idea regarding the Roberts case. After talking with Adam about arraigning Carina Roberts in the hope of pulling her grandson out of hiding, the older man had decided that it wasn't in fact the best course of action and had instructed Ben to release her and put a tap on her phone, in the hope that Isaac would contact her. He hadn't, but through other means the police had managed to track him down to a local church where, upon arriving to arrest him, they had been told by Reverend Ott that he was being given sanctuary there. He could still remember the slightly smug look on Shambala's face when she had personally delivered the motion to his office and confidently told him that she was going to tie him up in litigation for at least the next ten years.

"You've got to admire her creativity," Claire commented wryly, flicking through the pages of one of the law journals.

"Shambala Green's?" He replied drily. "Queen of the specious motion."

"She's representing her client with the zealousness required by the canons and I'm sure she thinks we should have exhibited a little more of it in prosecuting Joshua Berger."

Ben took off his glasses. "You can't compare what Joshua Berger did with what Isaac Roberts did."

"Of course not, but suppose this crazy motion actually works," Claire said "and a judge buys Green's argument."

"Would you drag an innocent man out of a car and bash his brains in?" Ben asked, incredulous at the direction the conversation was taking.

"You know, I don't know how I'd react if I'd been screwed by the system my whole life."

Ben stared at her for a long moment, then turned back to the book in front of him. Sometimes it felt as though the whole world had gone mad. "It's not an excuse."

"I know." Claire paused. "Look...I know it's none of my business but, well, I talked to Peter last week when I was bringing him back from court and...he was pretty upset." Ben looked up. "He told me about you and Evelyn and I wanted to say that I was sorry."

"What did he say?" he asked sharply.

"Just that she had moved out...and something about her moving to England? Like I said, it isn't any of my business but...if you need to talk..."

"I don't," he cut her off. "What I need to do, is focus on this case and how we're going to win this motion hearing tomorrow."

"Sure," Claire turned back to the book in front of her and instantly, he felt bad again for cutting her down. It had been over a week since Evelyn had left, since he had seen her or talked to her, and somehow it wasn't getting any better. "You know, if Shambala is intending to rely on any recent cases..."

"Peter's angry," he said, almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. "He doesn't say much to me, but he is. Pamela's been more emotional about it. She and Evelyn were close and...sometimes it's hard to know what to say to them."

"I can imagine, especially after everything that happened with their mother."

"They're going to stay with her this weekend. I haven't said anything to her about it but I suppose I should..." he trailed off, thinking about Laura and how it almost seemed disloyal to Evelyn to involve his ex-wife in their private affairs. But then, if she was leaving, he didn't really have any loyalty to her anymore and the kids would need someone that they could turn to, someone who didn't want to shut them down the minute they mentioned Evelyn's name.

"If I can do anything," Claire said, breaking into thoughts, "you only have to ask."

"Thanks," he said, smiling gratefully at her. "I appreciate that and there is something that you can do for me."

"Name it."

"You can help me win this case."

XXXX

"Sorry I'm late," Shambala apologised, slipping into the booth opposite Evelyn. "I see you started without me."

"I've only had the one," Evelyn replied, pushing her empty wine glass to the edge of the table and signalling the waitress for another round. "Another large white wine please and..."

"Just a club soda for me, thanks," Shambala replied. "I need to keep a clear head for tomorrow."

"Of course...sanctuary. It's certainly an original idea."

"I like to think so. You should have seen Ben's face when he read the motion. I think he thought it was April Fools come early."

Evelyn winced slightly at the mention of his name, but ploughed on regardless. "You think you can win?"

"Well if I don't, I have a pretty good back up plan."

"Which is what?"

"Evelyn..." Shambala took a drink from the glass the waitress placed in front of her. "I didn't suggest that we come for a drink to talk shop."

Evelyn looked down at the table top. "Right...you wanted to talk about how you think my idea of going to England is a bad one."

"I think it's misguided, yes. By all means if you really feel you need to end your relationship with Ben then move out of the apartment and call it a day, but don't take yourself half way around the world..."

"It's hardly halfway around the world!"

"It might as well be. I mean, what do you even know about London? You don't know anything about what it's like to live there."

"I've heard it's not that different from here," Evelyn quipped.

"You don't know anything about the culture..."

"Shambala, it's England not Iran."

"Honestly, I think you're making a huge mistake."

"Well don't sit on the fence about it!"

Shambala sighed heavily, "Why are you doing this? Why do you think that leaving New York is the answer to all your problems when you could just move around the corner?"

Evelyn paused before replying. She felt weary. Weary of trying to explain why she felt the way she did. Weary of trying to convince other people that what she was doing wasn't crazy. Weary of knowing that even when she _did_ explain, they still didn't get it. "Because everything bad that has ever happened to me has happened to me right here. My father died, I married Eddie, he abused me, cheated on me, I got shot, I lost my baby..." she paused as the sound of a gunshot rang in her head, the way it always did when she thought about that night. "Every time I come around a corner I think I might suddenly bump into Eddie's son and...I just feel as though I need to start again somewhere new."

"So move to New Jersey!"

"You don't get it," Evelyn sighed. "Nobody gets it and whilst I understand _why_ nobody gets it, that's part of the reason why I feel I need to leave."

"Because you're going to magically find all these people in London who _will_ get it?" Shambala eyed her.

"No, because nobody will know who I am. Nobody will have any expectations of who I should be or how I should act."

"Who has expectations of you?"

"Ben does," she snapped, then immediately felt bad in the silence that followed. Despite her reasoning, she had no wish to paint Ben as being in the wrong.

Shambala let out a long breath. "Apart from your cousin and her family, do you know anyone else who actually lives there?"

"No..."

"So you're going to be leaving behind all your family and friends..."

"Friends?" Evelyn interrupted her. "That would be you and...who exactly?"

"You're friends with Claire Kincaid, aren't you? And Jack McCoy?"

"They were work colleagues. I don't know if I would actually call them friends."

"And what about your mother?"

"She wants me to go! She keeps telling me that she thinks it would be good for me to spread my wings and...and seize a new opportunity." Evelyn shook her head, thinking back to how enthusiastic Susan had really been about the whole thing, surprisingly so. Every other day she asked if Evelyn had heard anything about her visa, to the extent that she was beginning to think her mother really did want rid of her.

"And Ben? And the kids?" Shambala asked softly.

A lump rose in Evelyn's throat and she forced it down with a generous helping from her wine glass. "I don't want to hurt them...any of them. I love Ben and the kids..."

"If you love them, then why are you going so far away from them?"

"I already told you!" Evelyn snapped, signalling to the waitress again and asking for another glass. "Do you really want me to keep going over and over it? My reasons aren't going to change, Shambala! Ben and I want different things and, like I said, I can't stay here."

The other woman said nothing until a third glass of wine had been placed on the table. "When did this start?"

"When did what start?"

"The drinking."

"Oh please..." Evelyn scoffed. "So I'm having a few glasses of wine on a Thursday night, what's wrong with that? It hardly qualifies me for AA membership." She took another long drink, enjoying the slightly light headed feeling that came with it.

"What is it your cousin does anyway?" Shambala asked, draining her own glass.

"She runs a marketing company."

"So you wouldn't even be practicing law then."

"No."

"Well..." Shambala lifted her bag from the seat beside her. "It sounds like you have it all figured out."

"You're going?" Evelyn asked, surprised at how short the conversation had ultimately been. Despite not being particularly receptive to it in the first place it had, on some level, felt reassuring to have someone allegedly impartial to talk to. "Don't you want another club soda?"

"No, I've still got some work to do before tomorrow's hearing and, besides, I get the feeling that anything else I might have to say would be wasted on you."

"Please, don't be like that."

"You know, friends...true friends...are always there for each other no matter what. No matter if they _do_ think one of them is making a mistake," Shambala said, taking out some money and leaving it on the table. "I like to think that we're friends, Evelyn, so when London all comes crashing down about your ears, I'll still be there for you to talk to."

"It won't," Evelyn replied.

Shambala smiled tightly, "I'm sure you're right." Then she walked to the door of the bar and disappeared into the night.

Evelyn watched her go, feeling even more wretched than she had before. Quickly, she finished the remains of her wine, added some more money to the pile and then shakily got to her feet, the effects of the alcohol hitting her quickly. She swayed slightly as she reached for her coat and stumbled back a few paces as she tried to find the arm hole.

"Here, allow me." She started suddenly and turned to see a man she didn't recognise standing behind her, a friendly smile on his face, his hand outstretched for her coat. Wordlessly, she allowed him to help her slip it on and then turned around to thank him. "I was thinking about heading to another bar just down the street," he said. "Would you like to join me?"

"Uh...no, thank you," Evelyn replied. "I'm just going to head home." She took a step forward and walked into a nearby table.

"Oh dear," the man laughed, "please let me help you."

"No, I'm fine," she insisted, pulling her arm away from him. "Just...just leave me alone." She hurried forward to the door and pushed it open, the cold evening air hitting her square in the lungs and causing her to place her hand on the wall to steady herself. "You're fine," she said aloud, though the words were meant for herself rather than anyone else. "You're absolutely fine."

XXXX

"The concept of sanctuary, since ancient and medieval times, is founded on the idea of a religious place of refuge for those who had offended civil authorities. I want to emphasise the importance of a church in a black community..."

"If counsel could please cite one post-medieval case," Ben interrupted, trying hard not to indicate too strongly to Judge Franks how much of a waste of time he considered Shambala's argument to be. Not because he didn't think the judge would agree, but more simply out of politeness.

"How's 1991, counsellor?" Shambala replied smugly. "A church, right here in Manhattan, was willing to provide refuge to military personnel in danger of deployment to the Middle East."

"Pending the determination of their status as conscientious objectors. Murder is a far cry from moral opposition to a war!" Ben exclaimed.

"In this case it's not. We _are_ talking about civil disobedience. My client violently opposed the inequitable treatment of his race under the law."

"So he killed somebody?" Judge Franks said. "Nice try Ms Green but being that your client is not a hunchback ringing a bell within a parish cathedral, I'm denying your motion."

"If I lose at trial, you've just given me grounds for appeal," Shambala replied.

"Lucky for me I'll be in Palm Beach collecting social security if and when this nonsense should ever return to this courtroom. Are we finished here? Good." Judge Franks banged his gavel and rose from the bench.

Ben gathered up his papers and moved over to Shambala's table, undeniably relieved at the outcome. " _Now_ are you willing to consider a plea?"

"I told you before," she said, "manslaughter two, he does the minimum."

"Manslaughter one is as low as I can go and your client should consider it a gift!"

"Oh really and what kind of gift would that be?"

"The kind where he doesn't end up doing a full twenty-five years to life for murder two!" Ben replied, his hackles rising again. "Now I'm prepared to go all the way with this."

"As am I," Shambala said, squaring up to him. "You have no idea what's coming, counsellor. You may have won this battle but you most certainly have not won the war."

"Shambala..."

"I spoke to Evelyn yesterday."

Ben paused, thrown slightly by her abrupt change of direction. "Well, you work together so I guess I would find it odd if you _didn't_ speak to each other."

"I meant socially," Shambala replied, then paused. "I didn't like what I saw."

Ben frowned, "Meaning what, exactly?"

"Meaning you and I both know that her running off to London is not what's in her best interests right now, even if she thinks it is."

"So you're a psychiatrist now as well as an expert on racial justice?"

"I don't need to be." she glanced over his shoulder to where Claire was hovering. "When was the last time you talked to her?"

As much as he really didn't want to get in to a personal debate with a woman who, at the present moment, he wasn't sure he liked any more, Ben found himself irresistibly drawn into the conversation. "Not since the night she left."

"Well that's just typical. She told you she was going and you just stood back and let her walk away."

"Now, hold on a minute..."

"No, _you_ hold on a minute. You need to do something, Ben. You need to do something before she gets that visa, gets on that plane and you never see her again," Shambala gathered up her own papers. "Because you and I both know that, otherwise, that's exactly what's going to happen."

XXXX

"I found you a flat?"

"A what?"

"A flat...an apartment," Sarah corrected herself. "It's really nice, in a lovely part of the city, not too far from the office...I think you'll like it."

Evelyn leaned back on the couch and looked at the ceiling. "I haven't had my visa approved yet."

"You will," Sarah replied breezily. "I'm sure of it. So sure in fact that I told the board today that you would be coming to work for us and I've asked that you be put on the payroll commencing April 1st."

Evelyn paused, "That's only three weeks away."

"So?"

"So, even if my visa is approved in that time..."

"Evelyn, once it's approved all you have to do is pack a few things and book a flight. It's not hard. I told you, I'll sort everything else for you at this end. You're not having second thoughts are you?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" Evelyn paused again. "Look, I know how you feel. You don't think I was terrified when I moved here? I thought it was the biggest mistake of my life but look at me now. I couldn't be happier and you will be too. I know it's hard, leaving people you care about behind but...well...if you and Ben can remain friends there's no reason why he and the kids couldn't come and visit you."

"Friends?" she echoed. "You really think we can be friends?"

"Well why not? Surely he must realise you're doing this because it's in your own best interests and his too. He must know that you're not happy." Evelyn said nothing. "You have spoken to him, haven't you?

"Not since the night I left the apartment."

"Well why not for God's sake?"

"Because..."

"Because what?"

"Because I don't really know what else to say to him," she replied. "I told him why I felt I needed to go and he didn't understand. He was upset..."

"Well of course he was upset," Sarah interrupted. "He found out through a letter he was never meant to see rather than from you directly."

"Thank you for once again pointing that out," Evelyn replied acerbically. When she had called Sarah after leaving the apartment to tell her what had happened, her cousin had chastised her for not being honest with Ben from the beginning and, now, her constant habit of bringing it up was starting to grate on her.

"Fine, I won't say any more about it," Sarah said. "Have you at least taken the rest of your things from his apartment?"

"No, not yet."

"The longer you leave it, the harder it's going to be."

Sarah's words rang in her ears long after she had eventually put the phone down. Glancing at the clock on her mother's wall, she saw that it was almost eight o'clock. In all likelihood, they would all be home. Ben, Peter, Pamela. It was the wrong time, completely the wrong time and yet...her cousin was right. The longer she left it, the worse it would be and there would be nothing more invasive than her sneaking in when she knew they wouldn't be there.

So, half an hour later, she found herself knocking on the apartment door, her heart pounding in her chest, almost hoping that there would be no answer. Instead, she heard muffled voices from inside and the door swung open and Peter's shocked face was in front of her.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Dad!" he shouted, then glared at her angrily. "Dad!"

"What is it?" Ben asked, suddenly appearing behind him, his expression moving from hope to acceptance to anger in the space of a few seconds. "Peter, go inside."

"But..."

"Just go," he instructed him. Peter moved back into the apartment and Ben came outside, closing the door behind him. "What do you want?"

"I..." she paused, hating the tone of his voice. "I thought I should come and collect the rest of my things."

"Now?"

"I'm sorry...I did think about coming when nobody was home but I thought that would be worse so..." she tried to maintain his gaze, but found it almost impossible. "It's just a few things. Some clothes and...and that sort of thing..." She could tell he was battling internally with himself, that he wanted to say something and couldn't quite bring himself to. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he opened the door and gestured for her to follow him inside.

Peter and Pamela were both sitting at the table and they watched, silently, as she came inside. "Hi," she said again. "I'm sorry to turn up like this. I just came to..."

"Your things are still in the bedroom," Ben interrupted and it was impossible not to take his meaning. _Hurry up. Hurry up and get out of our lives._

Evelyn made her way into the bedroom and, trying to ignore the fact that he was standing in the doorway watching him, proceeded to pull her suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe and fill it with the clothes, shoes, bags and other things she hadn't been able to take with her before. When she was finished, she zipped up the case and then turned back to face him. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"They're your things," he replied simply.

She took a deep breath, "Ben, I..."

"Don't," he put his hand up to stop her. "I can't...I can't talk to you right now about this. I don't care what Shambala thinks...I just can't."

"Shambala?" Evelyn asked. "You've been talking to Shambala?"

"She's opposing counsel in the Roberts case."

"I know, but that's not what I meant. You had a hearing with her today. Did she tell you about our conversation last night?"

He paused, "She might have mentioned something."

"What did she say?" she pressed.

"It doesn't matter."

"Ben..."

"I told you I can't talk to you right now," he looked at her again, his eyes hard and full of anger and pain. "If I do, the chances are I'll say something that I'll end up regretting for the rest of my life."

Evelyn swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, "Like how you really feel about me?" He didn't reply. "Well, then maybe it's best that you don't say anything." Lifting the case, she moved towards the door only for him to remain rooted to the spot in front of it. "Are you going to let me past?"

For a moment, he just looked at her then, eventually, he moved to the side, allowing her to leave the room and head back into the living room where the kids were still sitting watching. As she approached them, she saw Peter's arm slide protectively around his sister's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice cracking slightly on the word. "I really am." Neither of them replied, so she moved over to the apartment door then suddenly stopped and turned, taking her keys out of her pocket and sliding one off the ring. She held it out to Ben, but he made no move to take it, so she leaned over and placed it down onto the side table before turning back to the door.

"Selfish bitch."

She didn't turn around. There was no need for her to see Peter's face. She could readily imagine the expression that would have accompanied the words. She turned the handle and pulled the door open, sliding the case out in front of her and then closed it behind her. For a moment, the briefest of moments, she waited. Waited for it to open again. Waited for Ben to come out. Waited for him to say what she knew he had wanted to say, what she knew she had to let him say.

Instead, she heard a familiar click as the door was locked behind her.


	36. Chapter 36

**More 'Sanctuary' in this episode, so I don't own anything you recognise.**

 **Enjoy and please hit that review button! :)**

 **Three days later**

"How many times Mr Stone? How many times does a black man have to roll over and play dead?"

Ben thrust his hands into his pockets and sighed. Perhaps it had been a foolish idea, coming to Carina Roberts home, in the hope that he could persuade her to convince Isaac to take the deal that was on offer. Twice since their conversation at court Ben had tried to talk to Shambala about it and each time she had shut him down. In normal circumstances he would have thought 'to hell with it' and ploughed on to trial...but this case was different. For one thing, he wanted to spare Mrs DeSantos the trauma of having to testify about how her husband was murdered right in front of her.

"Mrs Roberts, I am not suggesting he roll over..."

"Please...my son, Isaac's father, was a night janitor in a midtown office building. There was a robbery during his shift. His lawyer said 'if we go to trial you don't have a chance.' Ricky took the deal. That was three years ago. This family has bartered enough lives already!"

"Mrs Roberts, I'm not trying your son, I'm trying your grandson, and there is no doubt in my mind what he did." _For God's sake,_ he wanted to add, _it was all over the Goddamn news!_ Carina Roberts stared at him and, for a moment, he thought he might have gotten through to her, until there was a sudden knock at the door and Shambala came storming in.

"In the future," she said angrily, "if you want to talk to Mrs Roberts you talk to _me_ first!"

"Shambala..." he sighed, "do you really think you're doing a client a service by refusing to plea?"

"Why don't you let _me_ determine what's in the best interests of _my_ client," she replied, reaching into her bag. "Thanks for coming. You saved me the price of a messenger." Ben took his glasses out of his pocket as she handed him a familiar looking, blue-backed paper. "It's my notice to call Dr Myron Janson as an expert to testify as to my client's mental capacity."

"You're not serious," Ben said, scanning through the papers.

"I'm deadly serious," Shambala replied. "I told you that the war wasn't over and it isn't. Carina, thank you for your hospitality but Mr Stone and I will take our leave of you now...won't we?"

Ben looked at Mrs Roberts, who was clearly in no different a frame of mind that she had been before Shambala's entrance and, with a sigh, he followed her to the door and back out into the hallway. "You're making a mistake with this," he said, as she stormed down the stairs in front of him. "Who is this Dr Janson anyway?"

"Well that's for me to know and you to find out, isn't it? It's not up to me to do your job for you." She turned and looked at him, her expression shifting from one of annoyance to one of sympathy. "You look like hell."

"Well this case doesn't exactly make for restful sleep."

Shambala shook her head, as though she didn't quite believe him, and Ben found himself hoping that she wouldn't bring Evelyn up again. "Then take what I'm willing to offer. Let's put an end to this now."

"No," Ben replied, irritated by her stubbornness. "If anyone ever deserved manslaughter two it is _not_ your client."

"Fine," she turned on her heel, "then I'll see you on Wednesday in Judge Steinman's chambers."

He watched her go, wondering what it was all about. Was she pushing this case to the limit because as a black woman she sympathised with what Isaac Roberts had done or was she just determined to outmanoeuvre him as she had tried, and failed, to do so many times before? As he made his way back to his car, Ben thought about how long he had known Shambala and about how many cases they had tried together. She had always been passionate, but this was on a different level.

He suddenly wished he had Evelyn to talk to. No doubt under normal circumstances she would have relished the opportunity to debate with him about it, throwing Shambala's best arguments at him and watching with a smile as he tossed them back at her. He missed that, and so many other things. When she had left the apartment with the last of her belongings, he had wanted to chastise Peter for his vicious remark and somehow make him apologise. Yet he found that he couldn't. His own pain was too raw to allow him to consider making any apology for hers.

It was still early. He could be back at the office in around half an hour and still have time to start researching this new angle before needing to be home for the kids. Or, he could call home, leave a message on the machine for them and then work on into the night until he was satisfied that he knew exactly what he were going to say in order to win.

 _Or, you could go to the public defenders' office and talk to Evelyn._

He started the engine and turned the car out of Carina Roberts' street. He knew what he wanted to do and he knew what he should do. He just wished they both amounted to the same thing.

XXXX

The pile of files on her desk was growing smaller. Or perhaps she was just better organised. With a day free from court and other mediocre tasks public defenders were expected to undertake, Evelyn had attacked her work with gusto, finally getting around to doing all the things that had been sitting screaming at her for days and weeks. It gave her a sense of satisfaction to churn out tape after tape after tape of dictation, though she knew it probably didn't have the same effect on the typing pool. For the first time in a long time, she felt as though something was going well, even if it was only one small thing. She tried hard not to stop, tried hard not to allow herself to think about anything else, in particular Ben and the kids.

 _Selfish bitch._

Peter's words still reverberated around her head and every time she thought about the events that had led them to the point of him feeling he needed to say them, she wanted to cry. Maybe she _was_ being selfish but as Sarah had reminded her on more than one occasion, she had spent fifteen years doing and saying what someone else wanted. Was it so wrong for her now to be doing something for herself?

When the phone on her desk rang, she picked up the receiver, her mind distracted by the file she was looking at, "Evelyn Nicholls."

"Well at least you picked up the phone. I half expected to need to leave you a message."

Evelyn frowned, "I'm sorry, who's this?"

"Laura Williams."

"Oh...umm...hello..." she said, surprised, "how did you...?"

"What, get this number? From my children of course. It wasn't difficult. I think they were both just _itching_ for me to call you and tell you what I thought of you." Laura's voice dripped with venom. "They came to stay with me over the weekend."

"Ok..."

"Is that all you can say, ok? My children have been left devastated by what you've done!"

Evelyn took a breath, trying to keep her voice steady, reminding herself who she was talking to. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt them."

"Well you have," Laura said. "Pamela cried practically the whole time she was here and Peter, well, he barely said two words except to ask me if I thought his father would be all right on his own."

"I'm sorry," she said again, hating the image of a solitary Ben that was now in her mind. "Like I said, it was never my intention..."

"Oh spare me your fucking apologies! You manipulated my children into getting close to you whilst all the time you knew that you were going to up and leave the first chance you got!"

"That is _not_ true!" Evelyn shot back.

"Isn't it?"

"No!"

"How long have you been planning this? How long have you been planning to just leave them in the lurch while you go off to England on your merry fucking way?"

Evelyn paused, wondering how much of Laura's information had come from the kids and how much had come from Ben. She would have been foolish to have assumed that Laura wouldn't find out about what had happened, but her righteous indignation did ring a little hollow in light of everything that had happened in the last few months. "That's pretty rich coming from you," she said, keeping her tone as measured as possible. "I'm not the one who got herself arrested for having a fight with her boyfriend in front of her children. I'm not the one who lost custody of her children to her ex-husband. I'm not the one..."

"No, you're just the one who can't keep any children of her own. Maybe you should see that as some sort of sign that you're just not fit..."

Evelyn slammed the receiver back into its cradle before Laura could finish her sentence and immediately burst into tears. They were tears of anger, fury, indignation at the other woman and her downright mean-spiritedness. But they were also tears of despair, because somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that Laura was right.

A few seconds later, the phone rang again and she snatched it up without thinking, half hoping it was Laura again so she could give it to her with both barrels. "What?!" she demanded angrily.

There was a slight pause at the other end of the line. "Evelyn?"

Her breath caught slightly in her throat at the sound of his voice, but the anger remained. "What do you want?" she asked roughly.

"I...uh...I wanted...I mean, I was hoping that we could..."

"If you're calling because of her, then forget it!" she interrupted him. "Thank you very much for putting her up to that, it was just what I needed?"

He paused, "I don't know what..."

"Go to hell!" she slammed the receiver down again, lifted her bag and headed for the door, just as Kelly opened it. "I'm leaving for the day," she said quickly, before the other woman could say anything.

"Oh...ok, it's just that..."

"I don't care," Evelyn said, pulling her coat on. "Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow." Without giving Kelly any further opportunity to speak, she made her way to the elevator and viciously pressed the down button. It opened straight away and she got in, pressed for the ground floor and then stood back against the wall as it made its slow, creaky descent.

It was four o'clock and it wasn't as though anyone would miss her.

XXXX

"Ben?"

He turned in time to see Elizabeth come out of the elevator and felt a funny feeling start in his stomach. It was the first time he had seen or spoken to her since Evelyn had left and though he knew that now was the time to be professional he couldn't help but wonder exactly just what Elizabeth had known about the whole sorry mess.

 _Go to hell..._ Evelyn's last words rang in his head. He had no idea what had happened in the moments immediately preceding his call, a call it had taken him a long time to work up to making but, whatever it was, it had put paid to any hope of a rational conversation.

"You told my secretary you wanted to see me?" she queried, as Claire came up the corridor to join them.

"Thanks for coming over," he said, trying to focus on the case in hand. "Shambala Green is intending to call Dr Myron Janson as a defence witness at trial to shore up her plea of diminished capacity in the Roberts case. I was hoping you might have a take on him and his so-called theory."

"Wow, well, Dr Janson's made the rounds," Elizabeth said wryly. "Every time ten or more people get out of line he's there to testify that the collective group psyche rendered each of the individuals guiltless."

"And that's effective?" Claire asked incredulously.

"Dr Janson's a good witness. He gets to the jury...puts them at ease."

"Is there any validity in this?" Ben asked.

"You couldn't count the number of volumes written on mob psychology," Elizabeth replied with a smile.

"That's not an answer, Liz."

"What do you want me to say?" she said, seemingly amazed that he was even asking. "Is Isaac Roberts clinically insane? No. Is it possible that the screaming of a hundred of his friends and neighbours affected his actions? Yes."

Ben felt himself grow angry, at more than just her attitude towards his case, specifically at her constant propensity towards playing devil's advocate. "Are you going to stand there and rationally excuse what he did?" he demanded.

"That's not my job. I'm sorry Ben, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to put me on the stand."

He sighed heavily. "Then we have to keep Dr Janson _off_ the stand."

"I'll check the case law," Claire offered. "There has to be something we can use to argue against this."

"Thanks," Ben said, as she turned and headed back down the hallway towards her desk, leaving him and Elizabeth alone in the corridor.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said.

"About this case or about Evelyn?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

She frowned, "Evelyn? I don't..."

"Did you know?" he interrupted her. "Did you know she was going to do this? Did she tell you all about it in her sessions? Maybe she even asked your opinion on it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about her deciding to leave everything and everybody she knows behind and go to live in London! I'm talking about her leaving _me!"_ The moment the words were out of his mouth, he suddenly remembered where they were and quickly glanced around for a free conference room.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Elizabeth said, as he ushered her inside. "She's never mentioned anything about..."

"She _never_ told you? She _never_ said her cousin had offered her a job? She _never_ said that she was thinking about taking it? She _never_ told you that she had made an application for a visa?" His voice rose with each question and he watched as she took a slight step back away from him.

"No, she didn't!" Elizabeth said in astonishment. "When did this happen?"

He felt the wind drop slightly from his sails. Part of him had hoped that Elizabeth _had_ known. Then he would have had someone else to rail at...someone else to blame besides himself. "She moved out a week ago."

"She's gone already?"

"No, she's staying at her mother's place. Her application hasn't been approved yet but once it has...she's going."

Elizabeth paused, "Ben, I'm so sorry..."

"You're supposed to be her therapist."

" _Supposed_ to be...?"

"You're supposed to know how she is, how she's feeling...do you really think that it's in her own best interests right now to do this? To just...leave?"

"Ben, you know that I can't talk about our sessions..."

"I'm not asking for confidential details!" he snapped. "I'm asking a purely professional question. Given her state of mind...given everything she's been through...do you think that it's in her best interests to leave?" Elizabeth didn't say anything. "Liz? Do you think...?"

"No," she said finally. "No, I don't."

Ben found himself taken aback by her answer. He had expected some psychobabble from her about how important it was that Evelyn find her own way, stand on her own two feet, especially in light of her comments to him the previous year.

"She needs a strong support system," Elizabeth continued. "Having family and friends around her is just as important as her being able to find her own coping mechanisms. Does she even know anyone in London?"

"Apart from her cousin and her family, no."

"What reasons has she given for wanting to go?"

He looked at the floor, "My not understanding her feelings about Edward...us wanting different things...her needing a fresh start, that sort of thing."

Elizabeth sighed, "Her feelings about Edward are complicated, Ben."

"I know that."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

"Only when she left and...well...it was a pretty emotional conversation."

"I can imagine." She put her hand on his arm. "She's supposed to be coming in for a session later this week."

"Can you talk to her about it? Tell me what she says?" he asked hopefully.

"I can try and bring the conversation around to it, but I can't force her to tell me anything she doesn't want to. All I can really do is listen. And no, I can't tell you what she says. You'll need to find a way to talk to her about that yourself."

He let out a long breath, thinking about the wasted opportunity when she had come to the apartment and her anger on the phone. "Easier said than done."

XXXX

Shambala had reached Judge Steinman's chambers first and was already sitting outside, going through her papers when Ben arrived. It certainly wasn't the first time they had waited together outside before going in to argue against each other, but this time there was a definite tension that hadn't ever been there before, no matter how much they had irritated each other.

"Shambala."

She looked up as he sat down in the chair beside her. "Ben. Still not sleeping?"

"Are you?"

"I'll admit that if ever a case was prone to keeping me awake at night, it's this one. I can't argue with you on that." She paused. "How are you otherwise?"

"Fine," he lied.

"Have you talked to Evelyn?"

"Not yet." Shambala sighed and he found himself irritated by the fact that she felt qualified to offer any kind of opinion on his conduct. "It's not as easy as you might think."

"What's not easy about it? You sit down. You talk. You tell each other how you feel. You make a decision." She shook her head. "Even if you don't succeed it's still worth the effort."

"Effort has nothing to do with it!" he said, aware he was rising to her bait and that his protestations were directed more towards himself than towards her. "You think that I haven't tried?"

"Try harder." She paused. "Evelyn left the office at four o'clock yesterday."

"So?"

"So I know she didn't go home. How do I know this? I know because I met my sister for dinner last night and I saw Evelyn, stumbling out of a wine bar."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm _saying_ what I said to you last week. You need to do something."

The door to chambers opened before Ben could reply and Judge Steinman urged them both inside. "I'm due in court in fifteen minutes, so can we make this brief?"

"Your honour..." Shambala started, "if we learned nothing from the riots in Los Angeles, we learned that peace loving individuals can be pushed to a point of extreme violence."

"The law requires a modicum of self-control," Ben said pulling his mind back to what was important at that moment.

"Nobody's arguing with that. In the normal course of events. But when one's normal powers of judgement are suspended..."

"Let me get this right," Judge Steinman interrupted, "You're claiming your client was legally insane?"

"Your honour, Dr Janson will testify that individuals swept up in a riot can submit to a collective frenzy that can diminish their ability to distinguish right from wrong."

"So the mob is guilty and no individual is?" Ben asked.

"Exactly!" Shambala met his gaze, seemingly almost pleading with him to try and understand. "The scientists call it 'group contagion.'

"I'll listen to your expert Ms Green," the judge sighed, "but I'm going to reserve my decision on admissibility until you present your entire case."

"Thank you," Shambala said, casting Ben a look as she gathered her papers, coat and bag and made to leave.

"Don't blame me for murdering them, they were horrible parents. And don't blame me for mutilating my husband in his sleep, he abused me!" Ben said, following her down the stairs.

"You really want to cast the Foster case up to me now?" she replied angrily. "After everything that's happened?" He said nothing."It's called diminished capacity."

"It's called fabricating jury sympathy!"

"And sympathy is part and parcel of justice."

"Right and my sympathy is definitely with Mrs DeSantos!"

"Of course it is," she rounded on him, "because you can empathise with her. You have no _idea_ what it's like to be Isaac Roberts', to feel exploited, to be unemployed...to feel you have no opportunities in this life. You pump enough air into a balloon it eventually goes pop!"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So the 'have-nots' can take their frustrations out on the 'haves' without recrimination? That's a hate crime!"

"It's been happening the other way for centuries! Look maybe you did march with Martin in the sixties but you know what, hanging a picture of Bobby on your wall just isn't going to cut it anymore!"

"Shambala..." he caught her arm as she turned to leave. "This is ridiculous..."

"Is it? Or is it that you just can't face up to the reality of the situation? Any situation?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She wrenched her arm out of his grip, "You tell me."


	37. Chapter 37

**I should have said at the start of the last chapter that the beginning of the scene between Ben, Liz and Claire is a deleted scene from 'Sanctuary' that I found on the DVD. So I don't own that any more than any other part of the episode. I've changed a few small details to fit in with my narrative.**

 **Enjoy :)**

 **Two weeks later**

"I can't believe that black boy is trying to argue that he's not responsible for killing that poor man." Susan shook her head as she scanned the newspaper. "I mean, we all saw him do it. It was on the news! How can he honestly claim that it wasn't him?"

"He's not claiming that it wasn't him," Evelyn replied, prising two aspirin out of their foil packaging and putting them into her mouth. "He's claiming he wasn't in his right mind."

"Hmmm...well from the footage _I_ saw, he looked like some sort of savage. I mean, the way he just dragged that poor man from the car and started hitting him..." she shuddered. "I can't imagine what his poor wife must be going through."

"No," Evelyn agreed, washing the tablet down with the remnants of her coffee.

"I hope Ben does a good job and gets the boy put away for a long time."

"I'm sure he'll do his best."

"There but for the grace of God. It could have been you defending that boy."

"You think I wouldn't have done a good job?" she turned to look at her mother.

"I'm sure you would have done your best but, well, I'm glad it's not _your_ name all over the papers." She held out the morning's edition and Evelyn glanced at it quickly, Shambala's name leaping out at her from the page.

"Shambala's a good attorney. She fights hard for her clients."

"Well I'm sure that she does, especially when it's one of her own. Now, maybe if this Isaac Roberts had had a white attorney then that might have been different."

Evelyn frowned, "In what way?"

" _I_ would certainly think twice if I was on a jury looking to convict a black man and he had a white attorney, wouldn't you?" Susan replied. "Anyway, aren't you going to be late?"

"Yes," Evelyn glanced at her watch, almost thankful that her mother had closed down a conversation that had been heading in a very uncomfortable direction. The Roberts case had certainly captured the imagination of the public and racial equality was a hot topic almost like never before. Various 'experts' had been doing the talk show rounds and it had done nothing but serve to bring certain viewpoint into focus. "Let's hope the traffic isn't too bad downtown."

"I _did_ shout on you," Susan said, watching as she shrugged on her coat. "When I came into your room you looked dead to the world."

"I was tired. I _am_ tired."

"Hmmm..."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Evelyn asked, though she wasn't completely sure she wanted her mother to answer.

"Nothing," Susan said. "But once you're in London you won't have me to act as your alarm clock and if you expect to get on at Sarah's company, I doubt she'll tolerate tardiness, cousin or no cousin."

"I'm sure that you're right," she sighed, lifting her bag.

"Did you post the card?"

She paused, "Card?"

"The birthday card? The one that was sitting on your dresser the other day? The one addressed to Ben's son?"

Evelyn said nothing. She _had_ posted it, her hand hovering over the post box for what had seemed like forever before slipping it inside. She had walked away, heart pounding, half wondering for a moment if there was someone she could call to come and prise the box open so she could retrieve it. She had a feeling she knew how it would be received. But it was Peter's sixteenth birthday and, despite everything, she had felt as though she couldn't let it go unmarked.

"Yes," she said finally, "yes I posted it."

"Well...he can't say that you didn't make the effort," Susan said, as though it was a foregone conclusion. "You might have thought he would have called."

"Who, Peter?"

"Either him or the girl. Or Ben."

Evelyn winced. "I don't expect any of them to call and I wouldn't want them to." She thought back to the last time she had heard Ben's voice, on the phone, just after she had spoken to Laura. "It's probably better this way."

"I don't see why you can't all stay friends."

"Don't you?"

"No, quite frankly I don't. And I must say, I think less of Ben now because of it."

"I have to go," Evelyn said, unwilling to be drawn into another debate over who was right and who was wrong. "I'll see you tonight."

"Well remember I'm going out this evening," her mother reminded her. "So if you're not back by seven then I won't see you until later."

"Fine. Then I'll see you when I see you."

"Evelyn..." she stopped and turned, arranging her features into as pleasant an expression as she could muster. "I know that you're a grown woman, but there's no law that says you have to go out drinking every night after work. You're forty, not twenty-one."

"I don't..." she caught herself in time before the petty arguments started again. "You're right. I'll see you later." Before Susan could say anything further, she pulled open the apartment door and hurried out, letting it close with a bang behind her that her head instantly regretted. From saying nothing at all, her mother had started making casual remarks over the last few weeks about the level of her drinking, culminating in her now coming right out and addressing it. It was ridiculous. She didn't drink that much. A few glasses of wine and some scotch at night to help her sleep. That was pretty normal, pretty average.

The cool air hit her in the face as she stepped out into the street and her head buzzed slightly, the tablets having not yet quite kicked in. She had a long day in front of her, none of the events of which she was looking forward to.

There was nothing wrong in looking forward to kicking back a little at the end of it.

XXXX

"Season tickets?" Peter looked up, his face shining. "Dad, are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious," Ben replied, pleased that his son appeared to be happy. "If you're going to play professional ball then I guess you need to be watching professional players more often."

"Wow...this is...I mean...thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I can't believe it! And these are great seats too!"

Ben watched as Peter gazed at the tickets in rapt wonderment. He had struggled with knowing what to get for him on such a special birthday but then the idea had came to him and he had thought 'to hell with the cost.' In some small way, he hoped it made up for all the past years.

"What about my present?" Pamela asked.

"Your present is great too," Peter said, looking again at the pencil drawing she had done of him poised to bat. "And I can't wait to read those books." Pamela beamed happily. "And thanks for the cards."

Ben paused, wondering what he should do. A card had arrived the previous day in a blue envelope addressed to Peter. It was clearly a birthday card and he had immediately recognised Evelyn's handwriting. For a while, he had simply stared at it then, grateful at least that he had collected the mail before his son, then he had taken it and put it in a drawer. He knew he had no right to keep the card from Peter, but part of him didn't want it to ruin the day.

Despite Shambala's urging, he and Evelyn had had no contact in the past fortnight. He had been spending hours upon hours preparing for the case and often at night felt too exhausted to contemplate the emotions that would surface if they did speak. He had also had to go to a parent-teacher conference for both the kids that had taken up two separate evenings and at the weekends, he found himself filling the days with activities for them, so he didn't have to think about what, or who, was missing. He knew it was all just a smokescreen. The minute the case was over and the pressure was off, he knew it would all come crashing in on top of him again and then he would have to make some decisions.

"Evelyn sent you a card," he said finally, watching as Peter's face darkened. "It's in the drawer. I wasn't sure if you wanted to open it." There was a long silence at the table. "You don't have to."

Peter pursed his lips, "It's ok, I can open it."

Ben rose from his seat, crossed the room and slid open the drawer, lifting the card out and handing it to Peter. He watched as his son stared at it for a moment before gently tearing it open and pulling the card out. The tension was almost unbearable as he watched Peter's eyes scroll through whatever text was inside.

"She sent me money," he said finally. "A hundred bucks. Says I should buy something for baseball with it."

"Well that was nice of her..."

"She's just trying to make herself feel better," Peter snapped, tossing the card and money onto the table. "I don't want it."

"Ok..." Ben nodded, "well that's up to you. Why not put it all back in the drawer just now?"

"Why not just put it in the trash?" Peter replied.

"Because you don't waste money like that," Ben replied. "If you want to toss the card, be my guest, but not the money."

"Fine." Peter got to his feet, snatched up the card and started ripping it up. Once it was in a few different pieces, he dropped it into the garbage can in the kitchen. "We'd better go. We'll be late for school."

"Don't let this ruin your day."

"Don't let what ruin my day?" Peter grinned. "I'm sixteen and I got Mets season tickets. Thanks Dad."

Ben smiled again, "Ok, well remember not to be too late home. We're going out for dinner and then you guys need to catch the late train." He had agreed with Laura that he would spend the early evening of Peter's birthday with the kids and then they would get the train up to Hartford. Peter had arranged to go out with some of his old friends on Saturday and then his mother was doing something for him on Sunday before he and Pamela came home. It had seemed the best of both worlds and fairly easy to agree upon, which he was grateful for.

"Good luck at court today," Pamela said, as she and Peter headed for the door.

"Thanks" he replied, watching as they left. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

XXXX

"I have some messages for you," Kelly said, as Evelyn sat down at her desk. "Two from the DA's office about Jessica Harris and another one from Dr Olivet's office. Her secretary said it was pretty urgent."

"Thanks," Evelyn replied, taking the slips from her and tossing them onto the desk.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No thanks. Is Shambala here?"

"No, she went straight to court this morning," Kelly replied. "She looked pretty stressed when she left here last night."

"I don't blame her," Evelyn said. Once alone, she looked at the message slips Kelly had given her. The two from the DA's office she put to one side in order to remind herself to call back, but she sat staring at the one from Elizabeth's office until Kelly's writing started to blur in front of her. She had missed her last two sessions and she knew that Elizabeth would be concerned about her. The first time it had come at the end of a very busy and demanding day and she just couldn't face the prospect of having to sit down and discuss her feelings. The second time, she just didn't want to go. It was easy enough to cancel. She had just called, in plenty of time, on each occasion and, and when asked if she would like to rearrange, had simply said she would call back once her schedule was clear. She hadn't bothered.

Elizabeth had to know. She consulted enough at Ben's office for him not to have told her about their separation and it would seem almost farcical to sit opposite her, knowing that she knew and yet be unwilling to talk about it. For the briefest of moments, she wondered what Elizabeth might think about her plans to go. Perhaps she would be supportive, after all she had wanted her to stand on her own two feet. Or perhaps she would advise against it. Either way, she wasn't keen to find out.

Her mind flitted back to Peter. She wondered if he had received her card and the money. She had genuinely wanted him to buy something that might help with baseball, maybe some new equipment, but she would have been lying to herself if it hadn't also been a way of trying to make herself feel less guilty about what she was doing.

"Oh God..." she sighed heavily and ran her hand over her face. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Edward's face suddenly swam before her eyes. "This is all your fault," she said aloud. "If you had treated me better...if you had really loved me...but how could you love me? How could you love me and yet..." The phone rang suddenly, jolting her away from the ever pressing thoughts in her head that never seemed to do her any good. "Hello?"

"Hey," Kelly said. "I just got a call from the 2-7. They've got a guy in custody down there who needs an attorney and there's no-one else available right now."

"Fine..." she sighed heavily, seeing her already full day going to hell before it had even started. "Tell them I'll be right there."

XXXX

"It's basically a matter of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts," Dr Janson explained from his comfortable position in the witness box. "A crowd acts very differently than an individual."

"In other words, because of the circumstances, a good person will do bad things."

"Well look at the fans at a soccer match in England. Hysteria invades the crowd and because of the collective frenzy the individual has no power to resist."

"Thank you Doctor," Shambala said, smugly heading back to her seat across the well of the court.

Ben got to his feet, fighting hard to keep his own disbelief in check. "Doctor, did you ever hear the defendant say that he heard voices telling him to kill Mr DeSantos?"

"As a matter of fact he did," Dr Janson replied. "He heard Reverend Ott telling him about the substandard treatment of his people...he heard hundreds of voices in the crowd screaming 'get the Jew.'"

"So, in your opinion, the defendant is not legally responsible for killing Mr DeSantos."

"That is correct."

"So I'm assuming you'd have to have the same feeling about a crowd of...uh...good old boys, a tree, a noose and a dead black man in Mississippi."

"Objection!" Shambala jumped to her feet.

"Sustained," Judge Steinman replied.

For a moment, there was a long silence before Ben advised the court he had no further questions and Dr Janson was allowed to leave to the stand.

"We'll break there for lunch," the judge said, banging her gavel, the sound of hundreds of muttering voices immediately filling the air.

"Well..." Claire said, watching as Shambala gathered her papers and made her way to the door of the courtroom. "There was really no answer to your last point. I think the jury saw where you were going."

"It's unbelievable that after so many years and so much condemnation of organisations such as the KKK, that people, African-Americans no less, can now turn around and use the same reasoning that Klansmen do to justify their actions in a homicide," Ben said angrily. "It's pure racism in reverse."

Claire glanced over to where Isaac Roberts was being led back into custody. "Do you think she'll put him on the stand?"

"I think she has to, if only to try and convince the jury that he really didn't know what he was doing." He sighed. "Do you want to grab some Chinese?"

"Oh, no thanks," Claire replied. "I promised Jack I'd go down to the hospital for a quick visit. He's bored out of his mind so tales from this case should liven him up a bit."

"How's he doing?" Ben asked, as they walked to the door.

"Feeling sorry for himself. Two broken legs...not an easy thing to deal with when you're used to being so active."

"Well, give him my best and I'll see you back here at two." They parted company and Ben headed two blocks over to a little Chinese place that he liked. It was quiet and out of the way and he knew it would allow him an hour to process his thoughts and try to distract himself with the day's newspaper, even if it did mean avoiding the headline story.

He was just getting into the latest sports news, when a familiar voice broke into his thoughts.

"Nothing like invoking a good old fashioned lynching to blind a jury," Shambala said, putting her case down on the table and loosening her coat.

"Nothing like confusing them with a bellyful of self-pity," Ben shot back as she sat down beside him.

"Wow," she said with a half-laugh. "You really know how to bat them back, don't you?"

"Why don't we take the gloves off, all right?" he suggested. "Stop behaving like advocates."

"He killed a man, that's a crime," she met his gaze. "Hell, maybe it's even a sin...but he was provoked."

"Do you really believe that?" Ben asked. "That he was provoked by a couple of hundred hooligans?"

"By a couple of centuries of hate," she replied, clearly contemptuous of his attitude. "Between you and me, Ben, as a black woman I am ashamed of what happened on that street."

"Are you?" he said, surprised. "You have a hell of a way of showing it."

"You don't get it, do you? I don't want that to happen again!"

"No, _you_ don't get it. By infantalising your own people, you are _guaranteeing_ that it will happen again."

Shambala paused and shook her head, "After all these years...you really had me fooled. I had no idea that your suit of liberalism only came out of the closet _when it was_ _fashionable._ "

"Shambala...just once I want someone to stand up in this country and say 'I did it. I'm responsible for my actions. Not my television set and not the colour of my skin.' And if it makes _you_ feel good to call _me_ a racist...fine. But if you're really looking for who's responsible for racism these days, take a good look in the mirror."

She said nothing, then looked down at her hands. "I have to put him on the stand."

"I know."

"I've come too far now."

"I know."

She paused and looked up again. "It's Peter's birthday today, isn't it? His sixteenth?"

Ben nodded, almost grateful for the change in conversation. "Makes me feel old. I can remember the day he was born as it if was yesterday."

"You're not old," she laughed.

"No?"

"No."

"By the end of this case, I will be." He held her gaze. "Don't say it."

"Don't say what?" she frowned.

He shook his head, "Nothing."

XXXX

"So, murder weapon, no alibi and a pretty convincing motive. You need me to draw you a picture or can we move to arraignment and not pass go?"

Evelyn looked at Mike out of the corner of her eye. "You know, there is such a thing as being overly confident."

"Not in a case like this," he replied. "Come on Evelyn, he killed the guy. He practically admitted it when we picked him up."

"Practically doesn't amount to anything," she said, "and if he wasn't properly Mirandised..."

"He _was_ ," Lennie broke in. "If he tells you otherwise, he's talking from fairyland."

"From my consultation with him earlier, he might well be talking from fairyland. Half of what he said made little to no sense. Have you had him seen by a doctor?"

"He doesn't have any physical injuries and any issues you might have about his competence are for you to deal with pre-trial."

"You're all heart," she said, turning away from the window. "What does the DA say?"

"Frank Lake said we had enough to charge him."

"Well, I guess you better do as Frank Lake says."

"I'll do the honours, Mike," Lennie said, heading back into the interview room, leaving Evelyn and Mike alone.

"Man loves his work," Mike said.

"Good for him."

"I'm...uh...hearing that _you_ don't," he said as they made their way back into the squad room. "Not that I blame you. Must be hard being on the wrong side."

"Very original," she rolled her eyes.

"No, I'm serious. I heard that you're thinking about moving to London?" He looked at her as though it was the most ridiculous idea in the world and he was waiting for her to laugh and say it was all some misunderstanding.

"Seems as good a place as any."

He frowned, "You're seriously going?"

"I'm seriously going."

"Wow..." he sat down at his desk. "I just didn't think...I mean I assumed that I picked it up wrong."

"From who?" she asked, her tone sharper than intended. "Liz?"

"Uh...no," he said. "No, of course not. I think Frank Lake mentioned it when he was down here yesterday. He seemed quite surprised about it."

"Good news really travels fast."

"Yeah..." he eyed her carefully. "So...you'll be calling it a day with Ben then?"

She felt a coldness in the pit of her stomach, "Yes."

"Hey, I'm sorry to hear that. I thought you made a nice couple."

"Thanks," she looked around for a distraction, something to change the direction of the conversation and found it, ashamedly, when she saw a young black man being booked in. "Did you testify in the Roberts case?"

"No, it was all over by the time Lennie and I got there, so Ben didn't think there was much point."

"No, I guess there wouldn't be."

"He's all yours counsellor," Lennie said cheerfully as he rejoined them. "When I told him he'd be held for arraignment, he burst into tears. Good luck with that one."

"Thanks," she said, moving past him back towards the interview room where, through the window, she could see and hear her new client sobbing, his head down on the table. Her mouth suddenly felt dry and she couldn't help but wish that she was sitting with a very large glass of wine.


	38. Chapter 38

**Lol, can't seem to stop updating!**

 **Cynthia, thanks as always for your insights. Regarding Peter's reaction to Evelyn's gift, I think Ben was trying not to rock the boat with him, rightly or wrongly. He knows the kids have been through a lot and whilst, deep down, he knows that he should have told Peter to be more gracious, he was just letting him have that moment. I'm sure if there had been anything further, he would rein him in!**

 **Please review :)**

 **April 1994**

 **One week later**

It had all gone to hell in a handcart.

Isaac Roberts had testified, poorly in Ben's opinion, and then Shambala had dragged Joshua Berger onto the stand and blatantly called him a racist in testimony that Judge Steinman had fortuitously, not to mention furiously, instructed the jury to disregard. Then she had excluded all of the evidence relating to 'group contagion' and Shambala's case had fallen apart.

He should have been relieved, and he had been until, a week after starting their deliberations, the jury foreman had advised the court that they were irretrievably deadlocked, unable to reach a verdict, and the judge had declared a mistrial.

Isaac Roberts, who had admitted the murder, was free to roam the streets.

Ben found himself completely floored. As Judge Steinman had made her ruling and the courtroom had erupted, he had sat for a moment, quite unable to believe what had just happened. Isaac's supporters had been jubilant, his grandmother in particular, and although she had looked happy at the outcome, when he had looked over at Shambala, her expression had dropped a little. She knew as well as he did that there had been no justice served that day.

"Three were for murder two, four for man one," he explained later that evening in Adam's office, still in a state of disbelief.

"That leaves five for acquittal," Adam replied needlessly.

"So, at a retrial we exclude their expert testimony...and the jury only hears our witnesses."

Adam threw the newspaper onto his desk. "There's not going to be a retrial."

Ben stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Isaac Roberts killed an innocent man. You want to let him walk?"

"If I thought we could empanel a jury that would give us a chance of convicting, I'd try the case myself. You'd think, that after twenty years in this office, you'd have a sense of reality."

"Reality?" Ben got to his feet. "The reality is that no-one is willing to stand up and draw a line in the sand. Nobody's willing to say that the law is the law and if you break it you'll be prosecuted win, lose or draw."

"Nobody except you of course," Adam muttered.

"Adam...better to light a match than curse the darkness."

"Even if it lights a fuse that could blow up the city?"

"What do you want? Peace without justice?"

"I'm willing to straddle a fence so the city can heal. Can you understand that?"

"Yup," Ben nodded. "I understand that. And that cure...is worse than the disease." He moved towards the door and opened it. "And it's a solution...that I just can't be a part of." He left the office before Adam could say anything else, the other man's words ringing in his ears. Where was the justice? Where was the justice for Mrs DeSantos? Was she just expected to go on with her life, without her husband, knowing that he was dead because he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and that the person who killed him had been set free?

 _To hell with racial tensions!_ He strode back along the corridor to his office. _Surely it's worth it to ensure that a guilty man doesn't walk free?_ With each footstep, he thought about the twenty years he had served the DA's office and served it faithfully. It had cost him his marriage. It had cost him a relationship with his children. It had cost him any chance of any kind of social life. And what did he have to show for it? Executive Assistant District Attorney, so what? What was the point? What was the point if people like Isaac Roberts could walk free and nobody thought there was any point in trying harder to convict him?

As he approached his office, he saw Celia standing outside, her coat already over her shoulders, clearly waiting for him.

"Ms Green called and left you a message," she said, holding it out to him. "She said she'd be at Chancey's pub in an hour if you wanted to talk."

Ben let out a long breath and shook his head. What in God's name did she expect him to say to her, _well done?_ "She's certainly got a sense of humour, I'll give her that."

"Yes...well...umm...Ms Nicholls is in your office."

Ben stiffened and looked over her shoulder, through the half-tilted blinds on his office door, to where he could see Evelyn hovering in the far corner, pretending to be fascinated by the volumes in his bookcase, as though she had never seen them before. "Uh...thanks," he said, once he had found his voice. "How long has she been here?"

"Only about ten minutes. I told her you were busy but she insisted on waiting," Celia replied, her tone slightly disapproving. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, you can go home now. I'll see you on Monday."

"Goodnight then."

"Goodnight." He moved slowly over to the door, paused and then pulled it open, causing Evelyn to start and turn to face him, her expression one of definite uncertainty. A thousand emotions flooded him. Anger, hurt...desire... "Well this is a surprise," he said evenly.

"I...uh...I heard about the Roberts verdict."

"You mean the lack of verdict," he tossed Shambala's message down onto his desk where it fell amongst all the other things he hadn't had a chance to get around to.

"Well...yes."

"Shambala's been crowing about it no doubt."

"No," she said. "She was actually pretty subdued when she came back to the office. At the end of the day, she knows as well as you do that Roberts was guilty."

"Oh, does she?" he shook his head, thinking back to their conversation in the Chinese and her attempts to defend his actions. "Not so as you'd know."

"You'll be going for a retrial." It was a statement, not a question.

"Nope," he shook his head. "Adam doesn't think it's worth it. He doesn't think any jury would be able to reach a definitive decision and, well, why the hell bother to try?"

"But he killed someone."

"You know that and I know that, hell, everyone knows that...it's all politics at the end of the day. Nobody wants to risk more riots, more lives being lost. To hell with the fact that one already has been and that his killer is walking around celebrating." He knew he was ranting, but it felt good.

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

Evelyn looked at the floor in the awkward silence that ensued and he noticed for the first time just how pale she looked. "Well...I just wanted to come and tell you that. I know how hard you would have worked and how disappointing..."

"Really?" he cut her off. "That's really why you came?"

She met his gaze. "Yes...that and...and to tell you, face to face, that my visa has been granted. I got a letter from the embassy this morning."

"Oh," he said, feeling a knife turning in his chest, "oh well. You'll be leaving then."

"I handed in my notice at work this afternoon. They were very good about it, said that I could leave whenever I wanted..."

"And no doubt you want to leave as soon as possible," he said, trying to keep his emotions in check and failing miserably.

"Ben, please..." she looked away. "I didn't come here to fight. I hoped that we could try and have a...a rational conversation. Like the one I'm sure you wanted when you called me at the office that day."

"When, I seem to recall, you bit my head off before I could say anything."

"I'm sorry. Just before you called, Laura did."

"Laura?" he frowned.

Evelyn nodded. "She basically told me that I had ruined the kids' lives and that...that I wasn't fit to be a mother, to them or my own and that the fact that I hadn't been able to have any should tell me something. I assumed, wrongly, that you had told her to call me and..."

"You really think that I would do that?" he stepped towards her. "You lost _my_ baby and you really think that I would have let her say those things to you?"

"No, I don't think that and once I'd calmed down, I should have called you back, but I guess I was afraid of what reaction I would get." She looked at the floor again. "I know how much I've hurt you...and the kids. There's nothing that I can say or do to make it right..."

"Yes there is," he interrupted her again. "There is something you can do."

"What?"

"Stay. We love you. We need you. _I_ need you. I've barely slept these last few weeks, not because of this damn case, but because of you. I can't...I can't function without you. God help me, I don't know how. This office...this job...it all means nothing if I don't have you. I understand if you feel that you need space and...and time to come to terms with everything that's happened and if you need to stay with your mother, or find your own apartment again and...and postpone our plans then I can live with that. What I can't live with..." he swallowed hard. "What I can't live with is you going so far away and telling me it's over. Please...please stay."

She looked at him and slowly shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I can't."

"You can!" He moved closer to her. "Just because you applied for the visa, just because you got the visa, just because Sarah has a job waiting for you...it doesn't mean that it's too late for you to change your mind. I told you once that I wouldn't ever let you go, remember? At Thanksgiving? I meant it. I love you, please..."

"Ben...I love you too. Doing this...going away...it doesn't mean that I don't. It just means that I need to do something for me...something that feels right."

"How can it feel right?" she lowered her gaze again. "How can it _be_ right when I know you're as miserable about it as I am? When you're drinking..."

Evelyn's head snapped up, "What are you talking about?"

"Evelyn..."

"More importantly, who have you been talking _to_?"

"I haven't been talking to anyone."

"Yes, you have! This is all coming from Shambala, isn't it? Why, because I had a few drinks in a bar a few weeks ago whilst she stuck to club soda? Because sometimes, at the end of a long day, a glass of wine helps me unwind?" She glared at him. "Jesus Christ...the two of you have been getting _very_ cosy over this case, haven't you? I confided certain things to her and she's come running to you, _wetting_ herself at the prospect of revealing all!"

"Don't be ridiculous..."

"Oh, but it's not ridiculous, is it?" she shouted. "I spent fifteen years with a man who said he loved me and was sleeping with someone else behind my back. If he could do it, you could do it. Any man could do it! And I told you before that she had a little thing for you...God, how could I have been so stupid?"

"Don't make this about me!" he retorted, choosing to ignore her accusation. "This is about _you_! This is about you running away from all the demons you think won't follow you to London instead of staying her and fighting them!"

"I am _not_ running away," she moved closer to him. "I am doing something for _me_ for the first time in my life and if you can't even try to understand that..."

"For heaven's sake, I am _trying_ to understand! I am _trying_ to understand why you feel the way you do! But I also know, that you are making the biggest mistake of your life and I'm not just saying that because of how it affects me and Peter and Pamela. I'm saying it because it's the truth and because I don't want to see you hurt yourself even more than you already are!"

"I'm not hurting myself! I am trying to stand on my own two feet!"

"Oh, like Liz said you should? Even she agrees with me that you shouldn't be going!"

She paused and stared at him for a long moment, "Well I guess that you and Liz and Shambala have got everything figured out for me then. I've obviously been the hot topic of conversation between the three of you..." she pushed past him towards the door.

"That's not how it's been..."

"This was supposed to have been between us," she turned back to face him, her eyes wet again. "And instead you've been going around talking to everyone about it behind my back!"

"Oh so it's alright for you to talk to Shambala, but I can't?" he advanced on her. "It's alright for you to have a letter sent to Adam about a reference but I'm not allowed to tell him what's really going on? Why do you get all the moral high ground when it's me that's hurting?"

"You think I'm not hurting? You think that I don't feel anything?"

"I think you're only thinking about yourself!"

"Oh, well, why don't you just call me a selfish bitch then?! Like father like son!" The tears rolled down her cheeks again. "You obviously agree with what Peter said to me! If you really loved me then you would want me to be happy!"

"I _do_ love you!" he exclaimed, incredulous that she would doubt it. "I _do_ want you to be happy but forgive me if I want you to be happy here with me and not in London!"

"I knew it was a mistake to come here!" She pushed at the door, trying to open it, only for him to grab hold of the handle and hold it shut.

"Don't do this."

"Ben..."

"Please don't do this."

"Open the door."

"If you walk away from me now, that's it," he said desperately. "I mean it, Evelyn. You walk away...and we're done. You don't come running back to me when you get in over your head."

She looked at him, her face damp, tears dripping off the end of her chin. He wanted to crush her to him, to spirit her away, to hold her prisoner and never let her leave. More than that, he wanted her to want that too. He wanted to see the look of love, adoration and happiness in her eyes that he had seen before, so many times, rather than the cold, sad, despair reflected there now.

"Please open the door," she whispered.

"Please stay."

She drew in a sharp breath and then turned on her heel, hurried across the room to the side door and was gone before he could even move a muscle to stop her.

In the silence that followed, he stood, his hand still holding onto the door, his heart thumping in his chest with all the adrenaline and emotion from their exchange. He had told her. He had told her that would be it and she had walked away anyway. Her choice was made. It was final.

The phone rang four or five times before he moved away from the door to answer it, lifting the receiver and putting it to his ear, hoping that he could find the presence of mind to at least sound as though he was in control.

"I thought you might have gone," Adam said.

"No, I'm still here."

"Good. Fancy a nightcap? I think we could both use it."

"Yeah..." he let out a long breath. "Yeah I think we could."

XXXX

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather I stayed?" Susan asked, half-turned from where she had been walking towards the front door. "I mean, I'm sure the ladies wouldn't mind."

"No," Evelyn replied, sinking down onto the couch, wine glass in hand. "I wouldn't want to be responsible for you missing bridge night."

"I don't mind..."

"I know, but _I_ do," she smiled encouragingly at her. "Go. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll probably just...watch some TV. I might call Sarah, tell her the good news."

"I imagine she'll want you to organise a flight over there pretty quickly."

Evelyn drained half her glass in one go, "I imagine you're right."

"Well then..." Susan said. "I'll be back before midnight."

"There's no hurry," Evelyn said, as she made for the door. "Enjoy yourself." Alone at last, she put her head back against the couch cushion and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling that washed over her as the alcohol swirled into her bloodstream. Was she drinking too much? If so, she didn't care. She needed something to help blot out the misery that she had assumed would be alleviated the moment she had the visa in her hand and yet still swirled around her. She had said nothing to her mother about her conversation with Ben. What would have been the point? Susan would only have waxed lyrically about it whilst in reality said nothing either substantive or helpful.

When she thought back to that last look...the pain in Ben's eyes...the way he had begged her to stay...she wanted to curl up into a ball and try to forget that she had ever met him. What had she done to him? She had gone to work at his office, turned his head, taken his heart and then trampled on it as though it, and he, meant nothing to her. She was no better than the one person she was trying so unsuccessfully to forget. The one person at the root cause of everything.

She was no better than Edward.

An abuser...just in a different way.

As she finished the glass and poured herself another, she felt a pulling deep down in her abdomen...a longing almost...a keen pain that she couldn't explain or rationalise until the front buzzer suddenly cut through the silence and it all made sense.

She opened the security door without so much as a second thought, then opened the front door and waited until his footfalls grew louder and he was suddenly in front of her, looking equally as wretched as she felt. She knew why he had come. It was unfinished business. It wouldn't be a proper farewell otherwise, despite how ill-advised it might ultimately be. Everything that could be said had been said. Every argument had been made, every tear shed. Now wasn't a time for talking.

His hands slid onto her waist and he pulled her to him with practiced ease. She fitted herself against him as she always had and stretched up so that her mouth would find his in a gentle, yet demanding, kiss. She could taste the scotch he had obviously drank earlier and smell the cold evening air and as she clutched him tightly, she tried to commit all of it, all of him, to memory.

This would be the last time.

Was it an hour...was it more? She didn't know. All track of time was lost in the bittersweet energy of the moment. Under...over...behind...it seemed never-ending, as though neither of them could bear to be the one to hammer that final nail into the coffin of their relationship. Finally, when she could contain herself no longer, she gave free rein to her feelings and cried tears, as well as his name, not caring who might hear her or what they might think. Then she held him, encouraged him, coaxed him to his own shattering climax, until all that was left was the two of them, lying together in the dim light, unmoving, silent except for their own breathing.

Again, she didn't know how much time had passed before his lips trailed a final journey from her ear, down her neck, across her throat to her mouth, kissing her one last time, lingering over it, before pulling back. "I love you," he said hoarsely.

"I love you too," she whispered in return.

She watched silently as he dressed himself, her body cold from the loss of him next to her in the bed. He kept his eyes averted the whole time and she could almost feel his pain, flowing in waves, crashing into her own and threatening to drown her. When he was finished, he made his way to the bedroom door and then paused, turning to face her with an expression that struck her deep in her heart and made her bite down hard on her lower lip.

"Goodbye Evelyn," he said softly.

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out and instead, she watched helplessly as he opened the bedroom door and walked away from her forever, the apartment door clicking gently behind him.


	39. Chapter 39

**So, because it worked so well with 'Sanctuary' I thought I'd work the season 4 finale 'Old Friends' into this story. I should say that, for many reasons, I don't like this episode, primarily because I don't believe that the Ben we had come to know in the previous four years would have gone as far as he did in threatening Ann Madsen. I realise the writers needed an exit story for Ben, and I suppose his belief in justice was one of his most defining features, but for me it just struck a bit of a false note. In any event, it actually works quite well with my own narrative, so I've included certain scenes, the dialogue from which I obviously don't own, but have changed certain things, including the timescales, to suit my own purposes.**

 **Enjoy and please review if you can! :)**

 **May 1994**

 **Three weeks later**

 **London**

"So from the Marketing Concept, we then move to the Selling Concept. Now, as we all know consumers will not buy enough of the product unless it undertakes a large-scale selling and promotion effort. Something designed to capture the public's attention and make them believe that they cannot possibly function without this..."

Sarah's words faded into the background as Evelyn doodled on the notepad in front of her. She knew that, as the newest member of the team, and the person who knew the least about marketing in general, she should have been paying attention, but the relentless drumming of the rain against the windows was enough to almost hypnotise her into a sleep that no amount of lecturing about 'concepts' would awaken her from.

She never thought she would miss afternoon arraignments, but she did. Or maybe it was just the security of knowing what she was talking about that she missed, the feeling that she could almost do the job with her eyes closed. This...London...everything...it was all so different.

A sudden sharp pain in her ankle caused her to start and when she looked to her left, one of her new colleagues, Alex Henderson, raised his eyebrows at her and shook his head mockingly. Immediately, she straightened up in her chair and tried to pay attention until Sarah stopped talking and dismissed the meeting, but as she walked back along the corridor to her office, she realised that she was no wiser as to the purpose of the meeting now than she had been before it had started.

"You weren't listening to a word of that, were you?" Alex asked, following her into the room and grinning at her. "You're going to have to come up with a better way to hide your boredom in future."

"I wasn't bored," she retaliated, feeling her cheeks pink slightly at having been caught out. "I was just...thinking."

"Of course you were, and I'm going to be the next James Bond."

She glanced up at him again and couldn't help but think that he was certainly handsome enough for the role. Forty-five, muscular build, dark hair and eyes...he was everything any Bond producer worth their salt would want in a leading man. His smile was slightly crooked, but it added to his overall charm rather than detracted from it. He was also, as Sarah had told her one evening as they had drank to celebrate her birthday, divorced with two little girls.

"That's the last thing I want," she had said, staring down into the bottom of her empty wine glass. "I'm not interested in any kind of relationship."

"Who said anything about a relationship?" Sarah had slurred in reply. "I'm talking about sex, Evelyn. I told you, this is the time for you to be having the best sex of your life."

"I was," she had replied quietly, though her cousin had been too drunk to hear.

Short of the miracle cure she had expected London to be, it was so far proving to be entirely the opposite. Day after day she struggled to focus on her new job and everything it entailed, her brain fogged with learning new concepts and meeting new people. Night after night she went back to the lovely, yet silent flat Sarah had rented for her and worked her way slowly through a bottle of wine, sometimes two, her cheeks damp with tears by the time she went to bed, her dreams peppered with his image, the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand...

"Well, do you?" Alex's voice broke into her thoughts and she realised, once again, that she hadn't been listening.

"Do I what?"

"Do you fancy coming for a drink tonight after work? We usually hit this great wine bar down the street. It's cool and funky..." he did a little dance in front of her. "It might be good for you to try and get to know the team a bit better."

"Meaning what?" she asked sharply.

"Nothing," he replied smoothly. "It's just that you've been here nearly a month and I don't think anyone really knows much about you other than you're the second beautiful American to grace our humble outfit here. Sorry," he laughed, "My chat's terrible, I know. But you can't blame a man for trying."

Evelyn smiled in spite of herself. It felt nice to be complimented, even if he wasn't the man she wanted doing the complimenting, and it would surely be better than spending another Friday night alone. "Yeah, that sounds good," she heard herself replying.

"Great!" he clapped his hands together. "We'll get you in the foyer at five-thirty then."

"Fine." She watched as he disappeared out of her office, presumably back down the corridor to his own, then turned back to her desk and sighed at the paperwork sitting waiting for her attention. At least some things never changed. Her mouth felt dry and she could feel her heart beating almost in her throat, her hand twitching at her side. It was nothing to do with Alex, of course.

No, it was something else entirely.

 **New York**

"My phone rang last night at eleven, twelve, one, every hour on the hour."

Ben watched as the woman in front of him paced nervously and tried to dredge up some sympathy for her.

Ann Madsen.

His star witness in his upcoming murder trial. Her business partner, and friend, Harry Renkmeyer, had been shot and then pushed under a truck, a hit carried out, so the police had discovered, by one Nikolai Rostov, an associate of the Russian Gruskov crime family. Ann's other business partner, Steve Green, was a member of the said family and it was the state's contention that he had ordered the hit in order to silence Harry on matters involving both his family and the company. Ann had seen Nikolai in Steve's office the night before the murder and her evidence tied everything together.

"We're putting you under protective custody," he said.

"I got in a cab to come down here, somebody in a car waved a flashlight across my face," Ann rushed on, seemingly oblivious to what he had said.

"You'll be in a witness protection programme," Claire said, "and we'll move you out of the city..."

"How did they even know I was _here?!_ Look, I've done all I can in just talking to you. I can't testify against Steve."

"Ms Madsen, listen carefully," Ben said. "You're going to have to leave New York no matter what. You've got to face the truth that your life will never be the same."

She looked at him, her face etched with panic. "Don't do this to me."

"A man is dead, he had a wife and a child and unless you've changed your mind, he was a friend."

"Please...of course I cared about Harry, but Steve and his family...now that I know who they are, how can I testify?"

Ben paused. She was a nice woman, a respectable woman, born and raised in Westchester, but right now, all he could see was her refusal to cooperate. "If you refuse to testify you're subject to indictment for hindering prosecution."

"Oh come on..."

"Ms Madsen...anyone who dances with the devil thinks they can walk away. You can't."

Ann let out a long breath and briefly closed her eyes. "It was only baby food," she whispered, "My God, how did I end up here?"

"Everything will be fine," Ben reassured her. "When you testify, the jury will be able to see the connection between Rostov and Steve Green and they _will_ convict Steve Green. You have to trust me on this one."

"I can go and chase up the protective detail," Claire offered. "We can have you covered from the moment you leave this office." Ann nodded silently and after shooting him a final, meaningful look, followed Claire out of his office and down the hall.

Ben sank down into his chair and rubbed his hands over his face. Nervous witnesses were nothing new, and he could understand why she was concerned, but if she blew this case...he sighed heavily and swung his chair around so he could watch the darkening skyline. The murder of Harry Renkmeyer had landed in his lap mere weeks after Isaac Roberts had walked free from court, something that still smarted every time he allowed himself to think about it. The taking of an innocent life had gone unpunished. Well, not this time. This time, he was going to win. This time, the jury were going to do what juries were supposed to do. This time, he was going to nail Steve Green to the wall.

Turning back around, he glanced at his desk calendar, noting the red circle around the date June 1st. Adam had made the decision to select Vanessa Hart as the best candidate for his new assistant and she was due to begin in only a week or so. Just over a year, since Evelyn had walked into his office and he had chastised her for being late.

Just over a year since she had changed his life.

It seemed so long ago.

So much had happened.

 **London**

When the hands of her watch flipped to five-thirty, Evelyn was poised to make up an excuse not to go for drinks after all. It would be safer just to go back to her own flat. That way, she wouldn't need to make conversation...wouldn't run the risk of someone asking her something about herself that she didn't want to answer. With the exception of Sarah, Alex and herself, most of the team were young, just starting out on their careers, hungry for success, willing to work hard and play hard. Despite everything, she knew she was past that.

 _This is your new life,_ she told herself, _so you have to make the effort._

She fixed her hair, put on some more lipstick and made her way down to the foyer where a gaggle of people were waiting, talking and laughing loudly, Alex among them. When he saw her, he broke away and came over to greet her.

"We thought you weren't coming."

"And yet, here I am," she said, smiling.

"Indeed," he said, his eyes raking over her face. "Well, let's go. I know this lot are dying for a drink."

They left the office en masse, then broke into smaller groups to make the journey along the street to the bar Alex had mentioned. He walked with her, talking about how his afternoon had been, what a nightmare one of the clients had been on the phone and how it was a pity it wasn't the end of the month, when Sarah usually footed the bar bill. Evelyn said little, preferring to allow him to talk, her mind taken up with the imminent prospect of having a glass of wine in her hand.

The bar was bright and modern, with music blaring that was probably slightly too loud and it was filled with people like them. Office workers, knocking off on a Friday night and out for a good time. Fortunately, they found two empty tables near to one another and, after some huffing and puffing, pushed them together so that everyone had a seat. Hands went into bags and money was pulled out and put into a glass for the kitty and Evelyn found herself joining in, hoping it wouldn't take too long to be served.

Three of the party went to the bar and returned with a number of bottles of wine. She watched as glass after glass was poured and, when she finally had one of her own and felt the liquid slide down the back of her throat, she began to relax.

"So what do you think of London anyway?" Alex asked, leaning across the table towards her.

"I haven't seen that much of it yet to be honest," she replied. "Sarah's going to show me the sights next weekend. She said that the Monday is a vacation?"

"Bank holiday," he replied. "Called so because the banks are all closed. There you go, your first bit of British lingo."

She smiled and took a generous helping from her glass, just as the girl next to her, a pretty blonde asked her whereabouts in the US she was from.

"New York," she replied.

"Wow...I've always wanted to go there, but my mum says it's a pretty dangerous place. Is it?"

"No more dangerous than here I wouldn't think."

"Are you married?"

Evelyn paused at the question, suddenly realising that she wasn't sure how to answer. She wasn't married, not anymore, but then she wasn't divorced either. Technically, she was widowed, yet the term somehow implied that people should feel sorry for her, and that was the last thing she wanted. "No," she replied finally, "No, I'm not married."

The conversation moved on around her and she found herself reaching for the wine bottle and pouring herself another glass and then another. People started drifting away. They had lives to be getting on with after all. More money was put into the kitty and more bottles were ordered by those remaining until she had completely lost track of how much she had consumed, but was enjoying the slightly removed effect the liquor was having on her. She wasn't sure how it came to the point of them being alone together, but suddenly it was just the two of them, sat together at the table, a fresh bottle of wine in front of them.

"So you must have some interesting tales to tell then," Alex said, filling up her glass. "Given that you're worked for both prosecution and defence. You must have met a few characters in your time."

"A few," she replied. "Much like in this field I would guess."

"Hardly," he laughed richly. "Marketing? It's all bitches and wankers. No, you must have met some really dark people. Murderers and the like."

"I suppose so."

"What's the worst case you've ever had?" he leaned forward across the table, his face alight with interest. Part of her couldn't be bothered replying and she had intended to give him a fairly short rundown of one of her many previous cases, but she suddenly found herself talking at length about a murder from six years earlier involving a shovel and a barrel of acid, stopping only when she thought she saw a trace of amusement on his face. "Sorry. I'm babbling."

"Don't apologise. I like listening to your voice," he smiled.

It was cheap, but effective. As the effects of another two glasses of wine took hold, she found herself saying nothing as he slid around the table to sit beside her, as his hand moved onto her knee and then her thigh, as his mouth found its way to her ear and whispered that, if she was interested, his flat was just around the corner.

She should have said no.

But she didn't.

It was nice to be touched, nice to be wanted, but it was almost a relief when, as things started to get past the point of no return, he murmured in her ear that he liked it from behind, resulting in her kneeling on the bed facing the wall, his hands on her waist, moving inside her, groaning and gasping while she held tightly to the duvet and tried not to fall flat onto her face.

It was a relief, because she didn't have to look at him.

A relief, because she could pretend that he was someone else.

To be fair to him, he made sure that she wasn't neglected and though, subconsciously, she fought it, the release still came and it was all she could do to screw her eyes shut and try not to cry out Ben's name.

She didn't mean to stay the entire night, but her limbs were too heavy and her brain too addled with drink to be able to move and it was only as she woke in the morning light, her head fit to burst, that she suddenly realised the magnitude of what she had done. The bed was empty, but she could hear the radio coming from the other room and the sound of cups knocking together. In a flood of shame, she hunted for her clothes, finding them strewn around the bedroom, and hurriedly dressed herself before visiting the bathroom and then venturing out into the living area.

"Morning," Alex said, holding out a cup. "I've made coffee."

"Thanks," she replied weakly, accepting it from him. "What time is it?"

"Just gone ten. But don't worry, it _is_ Saturday after all and you were dead to the world so I didn't have the heart to wake you." He sipped his coffee and looked at her thoughtfully. "I couldn't help but notice...that's one heck of a scar you've got."

Evelyn froze, the cup still at her mouth, the hot liquid in her throat. She hadn't even given any thought to that...to someone else seeing it...to someone who didn't know wondering about it. "Appendix," she said after swallowing. "Last year."

He nodded, but she could tell he didn't quite believe her. "Emergency was it? Rush job?"

"Something like that." She handed back the cup. "I should go."

"You don't have to," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"No, I do. I...I have things to do today." She cast around wildly for her handbag. "Did I put my bag...?"

"It's here," he said, retrieving it from behind the couch. "I believe you threw it there after we fell in the door."

She blushed, feeling a blanket of shame start to smother her. "I'm sure I did a lot of things last night that it's best I don't remember."

"Oh I don't know," he sidled closer to her and slid one arm around her waist. "I think I'm going to find some of them hard to forget."

She tried, and failed, to stop herself from shuddering. In the cold light of day, the cold light of sobriety, she didn't want him touching her. "Thanks for the coffee, but I really need to go," she said, pulling away.

"Ok. If you go out and turn left and left again you'll see the bar from last night. The office is just across the road. Can you find your way home from there?"

"Yes," she replied, lifting her coat from the couch. "Thanks."

"No problem," he grinned at her, "any time. Next Friday maybe."

The fresh air made her feel sick and, like some pathetic wino, she found herself vomiting in the gutter outside his flat, trying hard not to get any of it on her clothes and ignoring the stares of passers-by. It was a relief to eventually find her way back to her own flat, less so to find the two messages on the answering machine from her mother.

Her copy of _The New York Times,_ a subscription present from Sarah,had been waiting for her outside her door and after a hot shower and some more coffee, she sat down on the couch to read it. By the third page, she could barely read the type, blurred as it was by tears. Wiping her eyes viciously, she focused on one particular story, that of the death of Harry Renkmeyer and how the trial of one of his business partners, Steven Green was shortly due to commence.

 _Executive Assistant District Attorney, Benjamin Stone, when asked recently about the case, told reporters that 'the State has a strong and compelling case against Mr Green and we are confident about securing a conviction.'_

"Ben..." she ran her fingertips over the print of his name, the letters smudging under the weight of her emotion. "I miss you..."

 **New York**

 **One week later**

"Do you want me to get you some coffee?" Claire asked, as the courtroom filled up around them. "No offence, but you look as if you haven't slept."

Ben turned to look at her, biting back an angry retort. He _hadn't_ slept, but then it was hardly a new state of affairs. Ever since Evelyn had left he had found himself lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, going over and over things in his head, reliving their last moments together. Going to her mother's apartment that night had been an act of impulsion and yet, it was almost as though she had been expecting him. When he _did_ close his eyes, making love with her was all that he could see and the terrible feeling of being ripped in two when he had walked away from her was all that he could feel. That's why this case was a good distraction.

"I'm fine," he replied. "Let's just get this over with."

Ann Madsen was his second witness, after the man from the FDA. She looked nervous and she stuttered out her first few answers, but once he had done his best to relax her with general questions, she seemed more composed. Occasionally her gaze would flicker across to where Steve Green was sitting with his attorney, but most of the time she kept her eyes on him or on the floor.

"Your partner, Steven Green, did he have many visitors to the office during the time that you worked together?" Ben asked.

"Steve had other businesses. He had a lot of visitors to the office."

"Did you ever have the opportunity to see these people?"

"Sometimes I saw them, but I was never introduced."

Ben stepped over to the witness box. "Now you've testified that after Mr Renkmeyer was killed you saw a photo of his accused killer in the newspaper. Prior to that date had you ever seen Nikolai Rostov?"

Ann paused, glanced at Steve, then back at him. "No."

A cold feeling started creeping up his spine. "Ms Madsen..."

"I saw his picture in the paper," she barrelled on, "I had never seen him before in my life."

"Please consider your answer carefully," Ben said sharply. "Do you recall telling me that you saw Nikolai Rostov..."

"Objection." Brian Packard got smoothly to his feet. "Asked and answered."

"Sustained," Judge Barrie agreed.

Ben glared at Ann, almost unable to believe what was happening. She looked back at him, guilt seeping out from every pore. "A brief recess your honour?" he requested tetchily. "A moment with my witness?"

"Any objection Mr Packard?"

"None at all your honour."

Ben turned on his heel and strode back across the well of the court. He heard the scrape of Claire's chair as she got to her feet to follow him, heard the murmurs of the spectators, wondering what was happening. Once outside, he turned sharply left and around to the side door as Ann emerged, flanked by a uniformed officer.

"I don't have to talk to you," she pre-empted him.

"I suggest you _do,_ " he snapped. "Do you want to go to jail to protect these people?"

"It's better than dying."

"You are as well guarded as any witness possibly _can_ be. I don't think they can even get near you."

"Maybe not today, but where will you send me? Kansas? Iowa? They'll find me."

"Ms Madsen, you will tell the truth or I'm going to prosecute you."

"I'm sorry Mr Stone," Ann said, folding her arms across her chest, "but I've done all I can."

He stared at her, at the expression on her face, almost daring him to follow through on what he was threatening. He could see it...the whole case...it was swirling around the bowl. Steve Green was going to walk.

He wasn't going to let that happen.

"Officer, the charge is felony perjury."

Ann started in surprise.

"Take her to the 5th precinct."

"Just a minute officer," Claire stepped forward and faced him. "Ben, do you want to do this? It won't change her mind."

Ben paused. Maybe it wouldn't change her mind, but what sort of man, what sort of prosecutor would he be if he didn't take it as far as it could go? If he didn't have the courage of his own convictions, nobody else would have them for him. If he didn't push Ann Madsen, nobody else would. He crossed in front of Claire and then back again, meeting Ann's gaze, hating how he felt and yet, convinced it was the only way.

 _God, I wish Evelyn was here._

"Officer," he said resolutely. "Take her away."

"Ben..."

"I know what I'm doing," he snapped before Claire could say anything else. "I know what I'm doing."


	40. Chapter 40

**Happy Friday :)**

Adam was less than thrilled when he told him the news later that evening. The older man had looked at him as though he had lost his mind when Ben had explained that he had had no other option than to have Ann Madsen arrested.

"I was required..."

"Don't tell me it's _required_ ," Adam said, shaking his head.

"She perjured herself and destroyed this case!"

"Is that what it's about? Or is it about you looking foolish in front of a jury?"

The words stung slightly too much. "It's felony perjury!"

"How many felony perjury indictments did we file last year?"

"She lied!" Ben snapped, ignoring the question. "Without her testimony there's no motive, there's no link to Green and no corroboration of Rostov!"

"The total number of felony perjury indictments we filed last year...was four! And we do this to hardened criminals! Not innocent bystanders!"

"If she lied she's no longer innocent! And these people don't go away."

"And are you prepared to testify against her in front of a judge? Her word against yours?"

"And Claire's."

Adam paused and then let out a half-laugh of disbelief. "You really want to prosecute Ann Madsen."

"If I have to but maybe a few nights in Rikers...will change her mind."

He wanted to believe it, tried to believe it the whole of that evening and over the course of the weekend. Peter and Pamela were spending it in Hartford with Laura so he found himself alone with nothing else to think about except the choice he had made.

Well, not quite nothing else.

When he had gotten back to the apartment that night and checked the answering machine, there had been two hang ups, an hour apart. The first time, there was nothing whatsoever to identify who might have been calling. The second time, he could swear he heard a sudden intake of breath before the call was terminated.

Evelyn.

All these miles apart and he would still recognise the sound of her anywhere.

He lifted the receiver, prepared to dial back the call, then he stopped. It would be the middle of the night in London after all and he knew she would hardly welcome the intrusion, even if she had been the one to call first.

He poured himself a scotch and sat on the couch, the television on in front of him but the sound muted. Ann Madsen would be settling into her first night in Rikers. Her first taste of what it meant to be on the wrong side. He hoped, no he prayed, that she would see sense.

As he drank, he couldn't help but wonder what Evelyn would have said, what Evelyn would have done in his position. Would she have been as zealous in the quest for truth and justice? Would she have supported his position or would she have told him he was making a huge mistake? He drained the glass, telling himself that it didn't matter what she would have said or done. She wasn't there. She was gone. She had made her choice.

Now he needed to get on with making his.

 **London**

Sunday lunch at Sarah's.

Sometimes, she thought it was the only thing keeping her sane. Once a week, the family congregated to eat, drink and laugh together and it was the one day of the week where Evelyn felt she could relax and be herself, rather than a projection of what she felt she needed to be. Aside from Sarah, Nick and the boys, Nick's parents, his brother, sister-in-law and their teenage daughter came too and in the few weeks since she had been part of the family group, she had grown to like them all very much. They had all welcomed her like a long lost family member and, on Sundays, she felt like she belonged somewhere.

And no-one ever asked her anything. Perhaps they had all been pre-warned by Sarah not to, but it was nice not having to worry about the dreaded questions about her past or why she had decided to move away from New York. They all just accepted that she had and that was all there was to it. It made it easier to push her own troubled thoughts to the back of her mind.

Edward, Lily, little Jack...Ben...they were all still there waiting for her.

Ben most of all.

Wine helped keep them at bay.

She chose not to drink on Sundays. Why, she wasn't sure. Maybe it was because she drank every other day, more than she probably should, and thought it might be beneficial to have a day off. She had quickly realised that a couple of glasses of wine at lunchtime, when she was able to get out of the office, helped set her up more readily for the afternoon. With hindsight, they had probably also helped her to relax a bit more and orgasm more readily last Tuesday evening when she and Alex had wound up, unexpectedly, having sex on her desk. And of course, the seal now well and truly broken, it was the most natural thing in the world to go out drinking again with everyone on Friday night, be one of the last ones left at the end of the evening and end up in his bed.

Three times now they had been intimate and though the act itself had gotten easier, combating the feelings she was left with afterwards didn't. She still felt dead inside, sick from the amount of drink she had consumed...and filled with guilt over having betrayed the man she was still in love with.

 _You're not together_ , her inner voice reminded her. _It's not like Edward cheating on you. You left Ben. You can have sex with whomever you choose._

"I choose him," she had said to herself, caught in the grip of Saturday's hangover. "I choose Ben. I always choose Ben..." Then she had cried, and spent the rest of the day in bed, wrapped in her duvet, hiding from the reality of her shame and vowing it wouldn't happen again.

"So...tomorrow," Sarah said, as they tucked into the roast. "You and I are going to hit some sights, Evelyn! What do you fancy doing?"

"Oh, whatever you think," Evelyn replied.

"Hmm...Buckingham Palace? Maybe the Tower of London too?"

"Sounds great," she enthused as best she could. "Maybe we'll see Princess Diana."

"I doubt it," Sarah laughed, "but I guess you never know."

"How's work going, Evelyn," Nick's mother asked. "Are you starting to find your feet now?"

"Yes," she lied. "I think so. Everyone's been really helpful, not to mention patient."

"Evelyn's doing great," Sarah chimed in. "I think we'll let her loose on some clients on her own next week. Don't worry," she added on her look. "We'll start off with the easy ones."

"She's defended murderers, Sarah," Nick said, "I'm sure she can manage a few of your clients."

The talk had turned to generalities and Evelyn had found herself zoning out wondering what Ben was doing at that moment. It would be early morning in New York. Maybe he was taking the kids out or maybe he was sitting drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.

Maybe he was even thinking about her the way she was thinking about him and wondering if it had indeed been her that had called him, twice, on Friday night.

 **New York**

Ann took a breath and met his gaze across the table. "I can't do it."

It was Sunday evening and after giving her the best part of two days and two nights to think about her position, Ben had called her lawyer, Beth Harris, and asked for a meeting at Rikers. He couldn't help but notice that in the space of those two days, she looked very different to the image she had projected on the stand. Gone was the sharp business suit, the neatly coiffed hair, the perfect makeup...in their place was a prison jumpsuit and a scared expression, the latter of which he was trying not to concentrate too much on.

"Then we are prepared to prosecute you."

"Come on Ben, I don't believe you," Beth butted in. "You'll put her in jail for a year?"

Ben paused. "The penalty for conspiracy to murder is twenty-five to life."

Beth blanched slightly. "You wouldn't."

"This is crazy," Ann gasped. "I didn't have anything to do with it!"

"Because you say so?" He eyeballed her. "Are you protecting Steve Green or yourself?"

"You don't believe that. You're only trying to scare me."

"There's no evidence my client was involved in the death of Harry Renkmeyer."

"If you're innocent and you don't do this, they'll go on killing," he said quietly. "They killed Harry Renkmeyer, they'll kill you."

She shook her head. "Not if I don't testify."

"Really?" He leaned forward, preparing to go in for the kill. "Will you ever go to a movie and not look over your shoulder? Will you ever have a child and be comfortable sending her to school? If you testify, we'll get you a new identity. If you don't, you're on your own." The words were harsh, he knew they were, and yet they needed saying.

Ann stared at him. "I'm not a policeman. I'm not the District Attorney. It's not my job! He can't do this, can he?" She turned wildly to Beth. "I don't have to do this."

Ben met Beth's gaze. She was someone he had known for years, a lawyer full of nothing but integrity. "Don't lie to her," he warned softly.

Beth sighed. She knew he was right. "Ann, I'm an officer of the court. I understand what you're trying to do, but it's improper for me to say it's right."

"You are a citizen," Ben pushed on. "A witness to a crime. You don't do this, the system doesn't work."

"I don't care about the system! I admit I should have been more suspicious of Steve but I don't deserve this. I made a mistake, that's all."

"The mistake you're making, is not telling the truth."

"You really know how to turn the screws," Beth said, ten minutes later as they both signed out in the visitor book. "You know she had nothing to do with that murder. She's terrified of Green and his family and I, for one, don't blame her."

"Her testimony is essential to..."

"Oh get off your moral high horse Ben!" Beth paused. "This isn't like you. Where's the compassion? Ann Madsen is a good person and she doesn't deserve..."

"I have plenty of compassion," he snapped, tired of everyone questioning his decisions. "I have compassion for Harry Rankmeyer's wife and daughter, or have you forgotten about them?"

Beth swung her bag over her shoulder and looked at him with an expression akin to contempt. "Well let's hope for all our sakes that this works out. I'd hate to be in your shoes if it doesn't."

 **London**

"Is there anyone sitting here?"

Evelyn looked up, caught off guard by the sound of a male voice coming from over her shoulder. The owner of the voice was smiling down at her, a beer in his hand, his expression open and friendly. "No," she heard herself reply.

"Good. I was hoping there wasn't. I hate seeing beautiful women drinking alone." He slid into the seat beside her and held out his hand for a formal handshake. "Keith."

"Evelyn."

"Ah...you're not from these shores, are you?"

"No," she admitted, "I'm not."

"American?" She nodded. "Which part?"

"New York."

"Great city, been there a few times myself with work. I'm a banker."

She smiled and sipped her wine as he prattled on, talking about himself and occasionally asking questions about her life that she answered in a banal fashion, half hoping it would put him off and half-hoping it would encourage him.

She had enjoyed spending the day with Sarah, traipsing around the city, marvelling at the palace, Tower Bridge, the Tower of London...all the things she had read about or seen on TV but hadn't ever thought she would see for herself. It had been fun, but it had also reminded her of a conversation she had had with Ben, many months earlier, when they had been considering going on vacation together.

" _Adam told me that, with all this vacation time, I should take you away somewhere."_

 _"Really? Where did you have in mind?"_

 _"Where would you like to go?"_

 _"Oh...I don't know...London, Paris, Rome..."_

 _"One day I'll take you all those places, but right now I was thinking more along the lines of somewhere in the United States."_

 _"You don't have to take me anywhere. I'm happy right here with you."_

The memory had brought a lump to her throat and tears to her eyes, that she managed to explain away with the rain and whipping wind, not unusual for May in London so Sarah had informed her. By the time she had got back to the flat later that afternoon, the sky had been dark and ominous, the rain pouring down, the thought of drinking in solitude holding no real appeal.

By the time she and her new friend were leaving the bar together, she was staggering and he was holding onto her, his arms around her waist, their bodies bumping together in a unified show of inebriation. Nothing about the situation was particularly funny and yet she couldn't help but find herself laughing uproariously and letting him kiss her, even though she had no real desire for him to do so and each time his lips met hers or his tongue slid between her teeth, she felt nothing.

His flat wasn't as nice as Alex's, but then she wasn't there to critique the aesthetics.

 _If only Ben could see me now..._ she thought to herself as he slid the condom on and then settled between her legs. Tears sprang into her eyes as he pushed inside her, groaning appreciatively. _He would hate me...he would hate me so much..._

"My name's Keith by the way," he said hours later as, after waking from a troubled sleep, she made her way to the front door.

Her head was pounding and she felt desperate for the sanctity of her own bed, so she wasn't sure she had heard him right. "What?"

"I said, my name's Keith," he repeated, a slight trace of annoyance in his tone. "Not Ben." She paused and stared at him, framed as he was at the entrance to the bedroom, dressed only in his boxer shorts."I don't know, call me old-fashioned but I prefer being called by my own name during sex rather than someone else's."

Her chest tightened and she wrenched open the door, hurrying out into the corridor of the building and down the stairs to the exterior door that led to some kind of freedom. Pushing it open, she took in a deep lungful of air, the world spinning around her and suddenly she realised that she had absolutely no idea where she was.

 **New York**

"I believed I could be in business and make a decent product...make the world a better place. Maybe that's naive but that's what I believed."

Ben leaned against the side of the witness box. "When you discovered that Mr Green did not share your values, what did you do?"

"I told him we didn't have to save money by risking the health of children. I told him Harry Renkmeyer was right."

"And what did he tell you?"

"He said he would discuss it with Harry. Everything would be just fine."

"Now we've heard Mr Nikolai Rostov testify that he killed Harry Renkmyer. Previously, did you say that you had never seen Mr Rostov in person?"

Tears hovered in Ann's eyes. "Yes I did, but I lied..."

"And why was that?"

"I was in fear for my life," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Would you please tell the court now if you ever saw Mr Rostov before you saw his photo in the paper?" He felt himself hold his breath, silently willing her on.

"Yes, I did."

"Can you tell us where and when?"

She paused and looked over at the defence table, a tear escaping from one eye and sliding down her cheek. "In Mr Green's office...just past eleven o'clock, the night before Harry was killed."

Ben nodded. "Thank you. No further questions." He turned and walked back across to the prosecution table, feeling her eyes on him the entire time. When he turned around and sat down, he could see her watching him, her expression almost begging. As though she was saying, _I did what you asked. Now you need to protect me._

"Mr Packard?"

"I have no questions for this witness," he said and Ann visibly seemed to slump in her chair.

"The witness is excused." Judge Barrie looked over at him. "Mr Stone?"

"The state rests its case," he replied, watching as Ann made her way back through the side door of the court to where her protective detail was waiting.

"She did it," Claire whispered.

"Yes," he agreed softly. "Yes she did."

 **London**

 **Three days later**

It made it seem all the more sordid, dressing in the dark, slipping away into the night, and as she turned to reach for her jacket, his profile suddenly visible in the light coming in from the street, she realised that she wasn't even sure what his name was.

Not that it mattered.

There was only one name that mattered. Only one man that mattered, at that. One man that she would probably never see again, even if she wanted to. If he only knew...he would be so ashamed.

The night air hit her with a jolt, cool for May, and as she hurried down the steps to the street, she saw that most iconic of things, a red telephone box, standing silently on the corner. She paused, checking her watch. It would only be nine pm in New York. He would still be awake. He might even still be in the office.

There were several bags of loose change in her purse, a trick someone had told her about to save her from being the dumb American scrabbling around trying to tell a ten pence piece from a five pence piece while the line behind grew longer and more impatient. She pulled one out and hurried over to the telephone box.

The number was easy, burned into her brain, even with the international dialling code and as it started to ring out, she felt her heart start to beat faster and her palms grow sweaty. Four times it rang. Another four and then she would hang up.

The line clicked.

"Ben Stone."

She opened her mouth to speak and found that she had no words. What was she supposed to say? What could she say? After everything that had happened between them, words would probably never be enough.

"Hello?"

She closed her eyes at the richness of his voice. How she missed it. How she missed him...

"Evelyn?"

With a start, she ripped the receiver from her ear and crashed it back into the cradle before pushing open the door of the phone box and stepping back out into the crisp night air. Her breath fogged in front of her as she hurried towards the main road, her eyes scanning for any sign of a vacant taxi.

The sooner she was back in her flat and in the shower, scrubbing away the night's activities, the better.

 **New York**

Ben slowly replaced the receiver and took another drink of scotch.

It had been her. He knew it had been her and though, once again, she had said nothing, it somehow comforted him to know that, in some way, she was all right.

Unlike him.

The side door of his office opened and Claire walked in. "Ben?" she asked expectantly, clearly surprised that he wasn't still in the jubilant mood they had all been in a few hours earlier when, after three days of deliberations, the jury had convicted Steve Green of murder in the second degree.

He took a breath, wondering if he would be able to convey the news he had been given himself only a half hour earlier without breaking down completely. "They were moving Ann Madsen out of her apartment." His voice shook slightly. "She was shot in the street."

"Surrounded by cops?"

He nodded. "They shot the guy that killed her...and he had no ID. They still don't know who the hell he is. And she never even made it to the hospital."

"Knowing who you are, Ben, you didn't have a choice," she said supportively.

He knew she was only saying it to try and make him feel better, feel less guilty. She had always been opposed to the way he had dealt with Ann, though she had quietly gone along with it, and he had never engaged her about it. But saying it, confirming for him that he was the kind of person who felt they had to do what they perceived was the right thing, whatever the cost, no long sat easily with him. "Maybe I didn't," he said. "But I do now."

"How do you mean?"

He looked down into his glass. "I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?"

"I've dictated a summary of all the open cases we have," he said, ignoring her question. "You'll have it in the morning. Obviously you can call me if you need any guidance, or speak to Adam, and once Jack comes back..."

"You're not quitting."

He met her shocked gaze, "Let's call it, taking a new path."

"Ben, this is crazy. What happened to Ann Madsen is tragic but you're not to blame and you shouldn't give up your career..."

"Shouldn't I? She gave up her life. How can I have asked her to do that and not be prepared to do the next best thing myself?"

"You didn't kill her."

"No? I might as well have. I didn't pull the trigger but I put the gun in their hands."

"But this place is your life!"

He let her words digest and then slowly shook his head, "No, it's not. Or at least, it shouldn't be. Maybe...maybe I can see Evelyn's point now."

"About what?"

"Having to do something for yourself, even if other people don't think it's a good idea."

Claire sighed heavily. "What will you do?"

"Honestly?" He paused. "I have no idea."

 **London**

Home, if she could call it that. A shower, some aspirin, coffee...it was the middle of the damn night and she had work tomorrow but she knew she wouldn't sleep, couldn't sleep. Her head and body ached, she felt sick, her feet barely capable of carrying her over to the phone, her eyes barely able to see it for tears.

She lifted the receiver and shakily dialled his office number again.

This time she would say something.

She would say she was sorry.

She would tell him she loved him.

She would tell him she needed him.

It rang out.

 **New York**

"I never thought I'd get a letter of resignation from _you_ ," Adam said. "Thought you'd be here long after I'd gone."

"It's...uh...not entirely about you," Ben said with a wry smile.

"That's kind of you, thank you." Adam paused. "Steve Green has filed his notice of intention to appeal."

"Based on what?"

"Coercion of a witness, Ann Madsen."

Ben shook his head. These people...the Gruskovs, the Luccheses...they never knew when to quit and time after time, they got away with it. "Considering the witness is dead the appeals court should be amused." Lifting his briefcase, he moved back to the door, stopping to turn one last time. "I've brought Claire up to speed on my open cases. I told her she can call me if she needs to."

"She'll do fine," Adam said, getting out of his chair and coming to stand in front of him.

"I know. I'm not sure I ever really gave her the credit she deserved. She's a good lawyer. She'll do good things."

"What about you?"

"I'm clear as a bell."

It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

"You know what you're going to do?"

He paused. He knew what he _wanted_ to do, what he badly wanted to do, and yet he also knew the chances of him actually doing it were slim to none. She wouldn't want him there. Still, there was no harm in wishful thinking. "I hear London's lovely this time of year."

Adam smiled. He knew it too. "Then God speed my boy."

Everyone else was long gone for the night. As Ben passed his office on the way to the elevator, he heard his phone ringing. Pausing in front of the door, he wondered if he should answer it. Maybe it was something important. Then he remembered that whatever it was, it was somebody else's problem now.

He walked on and let it ring.

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

 **Part 3 coming soon!**


End file.
